To Live and Breathe and Live Again
by FruitPastilles
Summary: Tsuna was eleven when he was hit by a car and walked away from the incident unscathed. He was twelve, when he fell from his bedroom window and woke to his mother's frantic face with nothing to show for his fall. He was thirteen when he realised he couldn't quite die. Then he turned fourteen and a baby in a suit showed up and nothing else is quite the same.
1. Chapter 1

**To Live and Breathe and Live Again**

 **Summary:** Tsuna was eleven when he was hit by a car and walked away from the incident unscathed. He was twelve, when he fell from his bedroom window and woke to his mother's frantic face and nothing to show for his fall. He was thirteen when he realises he can't quite die. Then he turns fourteen and a baby in a suit shows up and nothing else is quite the same.

* * *

Chapter One - Would You Look At That

Tsuna blinked up at the sky above him and wondered when he'd fallen asleep. There were sirens close by, someone sobbing and someone else shouting. Ever so slowly, he sat up and winced at the pain in his back. Why had he fallen asleep outside?

Looking to the left he saw a woman crying into her hands, a pale man resting an arm around her shoulders. They were stood by a car, dented by an impact, blood splattered on the fender and, all of a sudden, Tsuna remembered.

 _I was hit by that_ he thought to himself. _I was hit by a car._

Then –

 _Mama's going to get upset I got blood on my new shirt and spilt the groceries._

His bag was to the side of him, split open like ripe fruit. The milk was still merrily leaking out onto the floor, eggs bleeding yolks onto the asphalt, and the bread was squashed.

Tsuna slowly started to move to his knees, wiping grit off of his hands and he moved to touch his head. His fingers came back sticky in blood. No one seemed to have noticed he'd made a move at all, in fact. He was distantly aware he should be feeling pain or something, but mostly he just felt worry over getting home and about the groceries.

Standing up took him a few moments, and though people were facing in his direction, no one seemed overly concerned that he was standing despite having been hit by a car. He stood there actually, for a moment or two, feeling awkward and wondering if the ambulance turning into the street was for him.

But no one stopped him when he picked up the bag, cradling it in his arms and feeling milk dribble down his wrist. No one stopped him when he stepped up onto the pavement. And no one stopped him when he walked down the street and took the corner that put him in view of his house.

When he opened the door and glumly told his mother he'd dropped the groceries, she'd turned away from the kitchen counter to face him and then gasped in fright, setting everything down and flying across the room to cradle his face in her palms.

And, despite all the blood caked in his hair, despite all the grime smeared on his face, and the frayed, torn holes in his shirt, there were no injuries.

Tsuna wasn't too sure why his mother hugged him a little tighter than normal that night when he went to bed that night, but he didn't complain.

* * *

The whole car event was pushed to the back of his mind when nothing came of it and Tsuna settled back into the rhythm that was 'wake up, go to school, come home' with all the grace of a horse on rollerskates.

It was a little over a year later, when coming home from school, he saw it. What looked like a bird, perhaps a baby, was stuck in the guttering above his bedroom window and he wondered how it had gotten stuck there in the first place.

There were rational ways of getting the bird free. He could have climbed the tree next to the house or maybe brought it to the attention of his mother so she could get the man down the street who had the really tall ladder.

Instead, he chose to go inside and after his customary greetings and hugs and kisses from his mother, traipsed his way into his bedroom.

Setting his school bag on his desk, Tsuna moved to open the windows as far as he could, hoisting himself onto the ledge so he was sat with his legs hanging outside. Then, holding onto the window frame, Tsuna drew a leg underneath him so he could prop himself up and reach with his other hand, trembling slightly, towards the guttering.

He closed his fingers around the edge of the plastic, making a face at the feeling of dead leaves and gunky stuff getting into his fingernails. The bird that was trapped, at seeing his fingers appear he presumed, had started to chirp quite frantically and loudly and Tsuna desperately hoped it wouldn't have a heart attack or try to fly away and break something.

That was when the guttering – old, it really was old – snapped from under his hand and he overbalanced, pitching sideways out the window with a breathless noise of fright, and then he was falling, headfirst, towards the ground.

He heard something snap, felt something in him give way, and then the world was dark.

* * *

His mother was crying when he woke up, great hiccupping sobs that shook her body when Tsuna squinted his eyes open to see where she was.

She was knelt beside him, crushing the tulips she was so proud of, hands folded over her mouth and tears streaming down her face. The broken noise she made at seeing Tsuna wake up made something in his gut twist unpleasantly.

"Sorry mama," he said, croakily, and feeling bad for making her cry. "I was just trying to help the bird out." In fact, he twisted his head to look up at the house, to the guttering, and felt relief that the bird, apparently, was free. There was no longer a bundle of feathers stuck there, among the dead leaves and mulch.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again, Tsuna! You could have d-died, or been very badly hurt! Come on now, let me know where the pain is, we should take you to hospital really – "

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Tsuna said as quickly as he could, fumbling in the flowerbed to sit upright and ignoring his mother's attempts to make him stay still.

"Tsuna," she said imploringly and Tsuna moved to twist his muddy hands together as he insisted, more quietly this time, that he was fine.

His mother just looked at him despairingly and helped him to his feet, helped him inside, and gave him watery instructions, face still blotchy, to wash up ready for dinner.

Tsuna briefly wondered why she hadn't forgotten the accident as the woman who had hit him with her car had forgotten.

* * *

Tsuna wasn't sure what had compelled him to follow the streams of students running up the stairs, but deliberated he was getting pulled along for the ride towards the roof.

But, when he heard someone shout, "Yamamoto-san is on the roof, we think he's going to jump!" Tsuna found it himself to actually make his way the steps of his own volition, shoving past students and ignoring the angry calls in his direction.

It was a little harder to shove his way through the throng of students on the rooftop, but he used his elbows and bag as well as he could until he was suddenly pushed forward and into the semicircle that was the space surrounding Takeshi Yamamoto, no one else daring to get closer.

"What, are you going to jump too, dame-Tsuna?" Someone yelled callously and Tsuna felt himself flinch, watched as the muscles in Yamamoto's back bunched up tighter in tension and he took in a calming breath.

Then, as easy as you please, he marched up to the guardrail and clambered over it awkwardly until he had his arms hooked around the metal bars, locked tight, and was stood next to a shellshocked looking Yamamoto, the young teen bewildered as to why there was someone else there with him.

And, before he was questioned, as he tuned out the gasps and cries of horror behind him, Tsuna began to talk, quick, and low, voice gentle.

Slowly, Yamamoto began to talk back and Tsuna felt hope blossom in his chest.

Finally, Yamamoto whispered, "O-Okay. Okay, Sawada-san. I think I understand."

"Thank you," Tsuna breathed out, relieved, and asked, not unkindly, "Did you want to climb back over now?"

"I think I do," Yamamoto replied, voice still quiet and soft and barely audible, but then he was climbing back over the guardrail to a smattering of applause and Tsuna felt himself start to breathe easier.

Tsuna twisted to make the climb himself, keeping one arm hooked as he starts to lift him over, accepting Yamamoto's helping hand. His own hand, sweaty with nerves, slipped from Yamamoto's just as he had a knee on the railing.

As luck would have it, his momentum brought him backwards instead of falling forwards onto the roof, Yamamoto having supported his weight.

His shoulder made a pop noise as he was forced to hold himself in the air with just one arm around the railing but then even that slipped free, loosening because of the pain and Tsuna was falling from a deadly height for the second time in his life, the second time in less than a year.

His skull struck the concrete paving and that was that.

* * *

This time, Tsuna woke up to a splash of water on his face, someone laughing in the background.

"Looks like dame-Tsuna fainted after helping Takeshi, how lame that he's such a scaredy cat!" Was crowed from behind him, and he blinked up at the sky.

"O-Oi," someone else interjected. "There's blood, he's bleeding."

"Quick," a third person interrupted, voice high and reedy. "Run, run!"

Tsuna could feel his body throbbing in time with his heartbeat, not quite a pain, but an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. His clothes were stuck to his body because of the water and he was lying on the ground next to the ground floor window of one of the classrooms.

Moving a hand to scrape through his hair, he wasn't surprised to find blood and, resolutely, he set himself to the task of combing out as much as he could with his fingers now that his hair was a least a little damp.

He was getting ready to stand when a hand shot into his vision and he flinched back, expecting to get hit or something similar. There was a weak laugh and when he looked up it was to see Yamamoto.

"I-I'd like to thank you," Yamamoto began stiffly. "But you disappeared before I could. I get it though – i-it's scary to be that high up, huh? I felt giddy afterwards." He smiled, weakly, but Tsuna felt something in him loosen at seeing how heartfelt and true it was.

"Just a little," Tsuna agreed, shyly, and let himself get pulled to his feet with help.

"Did you want to come back to mine and get dry?" Yamamoto offered after a long moment of silence and Tsuna glanced to the sky, to deliberate what the time was.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Yamamoto added, "You can call home from our place and let your parents know where you are."

Unbidden, Tsuna blurted out, "Are you going to tell your parents what happened today?"

Yamamoto's face darkened slightly, and his hand moved to tightly grip the strap of his bag as he looked to the side. Tsuna wondered for a moment if he had angered his classmate and then, slowly, realised that Yamamoto was embarrassed.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Tsuna said, "Drying up would be great! I don't want to get ill and miss any school, not when I barely understand it as it is!"

Yamamoto's expression loosened and Tsuna mentally patted himself on the back with a wide smile in return as Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head and laughed.

"True, true! We're a right pair, the both of us, huh, Sawada-san?"

"O-Oh, you can call me Tsuna, if you like, Yamamoto-san! Sawada-san sounds a little weird to be honest."

Yamamoto grinned back, wide and unrepentant, full of happiness, and Tsuna felt like he'd achieved something with his life just by earning such a carefree smile.

Tsuna ended up going home with a tentative friendship, a bag of sushi and the cold, stunning realisation that, so far in his life, he couldn't die.

* * *

"We had a letter through for a home tutor, Tsu-kun," was Tsuna's greeting as he walked into the house, toeing off his shoes and heaving a tired sigh.

"Oh?" He replied, dumping his bag by the stairs to take up later and he ambled through the house to find his mother in the kitchen, already starting dinner.

"Mmhmm," Nana replied, effortlessly chopping vegetables. "I phoned him and he's coming by for dinner tonight. I thought it would be helpful for you and your schooling."

Tsuna stumbled at her words and banged his shin on the dining room table as he made a faint sound of horror. Almost immediately after, the doorbell rang and Nana clapped her hands together good naturedly.

"That'd be him! Be a dear, Tsu-kun, and get the door?"

Tsuna debated disagreeing but the reminder of his notes in his bag, emblazoned with big, red numbers lower than they should dissuaded him of that notion. Instead, as he walked towards the door, he wondered if he could get Yamamoto into the scheme of tutoring.

It would help the both of them at least.

* * *

The baby at the door was somehow not the biggest surprise of his life.

* * *

I really shouldn't be posting a new story, but I couldn't help it! Hope you like this one. I don't know if there's going to be any pairings and, it'll mostly be following main canon events. There will probably be changes here and there, so I guess it's slightly AU? I don't know.

Anyway, I hope you like the idea!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Not A Fluke Then

Tsuna shrieked as he tumbled out of bed, feeling his hip throb in time with his heartbeat. He landed on his side and scrambled to get to his feet, hair wild and clothes askew, just to see a smug Reborn on his bed, one foot still outstretched.

At least, that was how the baby at the door the night before had introduced himself, before he'd promptly sat at the dinner table and eaten everything that was set before him.

"What was that for?" Tsuna moaned, scraping his hands through his hair before he caught sight of the clock and made a high pitched noise of despair, throwing himself at his dresser in desperation to pull out his school uniform.

"What are you doing in my bedroom!" Tsuna asked a moment later, jumping on one foot to get his trousers on, shirt haphazardly buttoned.

"I'm your tutor," Reborn said imperiously. "That means getting you up in the morning for school."

And then, from somewhere, he produced a giant green mallet and Tsuna was chased down the stairs, desperation fuelling his movements. His less than graceful slip on the final step ended in a cascade of a fall as he tipped forward, hit the hallway table and promptly smacked into the floor face first.

"Good morning Tsu-kun!" His mother called through cheerfully, undeterred by the noise. "Breakfast is on the table. Your friend Yamamoto-kun is already here!"

"You should have woken me up, mama," Tsuna wailed as he clambered to his feet, hitting his head on the table in his move to stand and whining at the pain as he staggered into the kitchen.

"Good morning Tsuna!" Yamamoto greeted him brightly, a plate of toast in front of him. No matter how many times he protested when arriving to pick up Tsuna every morning, Nana still forced breakfast on him.

Tsuna secretly reckoned he didn't mind, since he ate whatever he was given anyway.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long, Yamamoto-kun," Tsuna said in lieu of greeting, throwing himself into his own seat and looking around suspiciously for Reborn. "I'm sorry I wasn't awake!"

"It's okay," Yamamoto replied offhandedly and then laughed. "It was funny to watch you get woken up by your tutor!"

Tsuna gave him a wounded look that only made his friend laugh harder, and couldn't help but smile as he moved to eat his own breakfast as he quick as he could without looking like he was surreptitiously glancing around.

"About that," Tsuna suddenly said, once he'd swallowed his mouthful of toast. "Did you want to come by after school today, see if this tutor can't help the both of us?"

Yamamoto paused in his motions, glancing up and squinting at Tsuna. Tsuna would call the look suspicious if he didn't recognise the guarded expression.

"Honest," Tsuna added on as an after-thought. "I can try to convince him. He's after something anyway."

"No-Good Tsuna, what would give you that idea?" came from behind his left ear, surprisingly close and Tsuna shrieked for the second time that morning, knee banging painfully into the table as he flinched away.

"N-Nothing at all, Reborn!" Tsuna replied, and quickly took another bite of his toast, ignoring as Reborn less than subtly stole the second, untouched slice.

Complaining about food equated to injuries. It hadn't even been twenty four hours, but Tsuna already knew that.

"You wouldn't be wrong, though," Reborn said slyly after a moment. "After all, I am here to turn you into a mafia boss."

Tsuna choked on a mouthful of toast and probably would have asphyxiated had Yamamoto not slapped him on the back with a hearty laugh.

"Sounds like fun, huh Tsuna?"

* * *

The lizard Reborn had produced from _somewhere_ inside of his jacket had turned into a gun.

Let Tsuna reiterate that.

Lizard. Jacket. Gun.

 _Why did his lizard turn into a gun,_ Tsuna thought, bewildered. _Where did the lizard come from? Was it in his jacket all night? How can Reborn sleep with a lizard in his clothes?_

It took a few moments for him to gather his thoughts to then realise that Reborn did in fact have a gun – garishly green, mind you – and was pointing it at him.

All because he had chosen to talk to Kyoko that morning and Reborn had garnered the – wrong – assumption that Tsuna wanted to talk to her more.

She was talking to her friend, who Tsuna hadn't seen before and seemed suspiciously in awe of Reborn being a baby – now that he thought about it, she was wearing a different uniform – and Tsuna was with Yamamoto.

"Let's do something about that, shall we?" Reborn asked, smiled deviously, and shot him, straight in the head.

Tsuna just despaired a little that it was in front of Yamamoto. He'd since learned that if the person who witnessed him die, or saw the aftermath of the death were close to him in a friendly relationship, they tended to remember.

But then he hit the floor on his back, felt something crackle to life on his forehead and let himself stare at the sky, waiting for the world to black out.

It was Reborn leaning over him not two seconds later that led him to realise that he hadn't actually died.

The look on Reborn's face made him rethink that notion. He wasn't dead _yet._

"Strange," Reborn said slowly and Tsuna let himself sit up when Reborn stepped back, his black eyes shaded and unreadable.

"I hope you don't set my hair on fire," Yamamoto laughed then, and Tsuna lifted his hands abruptly to smack himself in the face, feeling something curiously soft and warm trickle over his fingers, something that glittered orange in the corner of his vision.

"What is this?" Tsuna asked, voice squeaking embarrassingly high. "Why am I on fire, _Reborn_ , why did you _shoot_ me?!"

Reborn stayed curiously silent, staring at Tsuna closely and face still blank before the gun in his hand transitioned back to lizard.

 _What_. _On. Earth._

But before Tsuna could ask again, Reborn simply let the lizard clamber back onto the brim of his hat, smirked widely and replied, "You're going to be late for school, Dame-Tsuna."

And, horror stricken, Tsuna whispered, _"Hibari-san."_ And then clambered to his feet, scooped Reborn up in one arm without even thinking of his actions, grabbed Yamamoto's elbow with his free hand and made to run down the street.

Apparently one had to take in their hair being on fire when running.

Tsuna was pretty sure he'd broken the sound barrier when they'd reached the gates of the school fifteen minutes sooner than he expected.

Yamamoto was speechless, fingers gripping onto his bag with a white knuckled grip and Reborn chose that exact moment to kick Tsuna in the chin and gracefully twist free just so he could settle on Tsuna's head instead.

"S-Sawada-san?"

Tsuna twisted as he heard someone whisper his voice, the _fire_ on his _forehead_ sizzling out and making a sound like water hitting hot metal.

Kyoko Sasegawa looked extremely befuddled as to how the person she had been speaking to not ten minutes before had reached the school building before her.

Tsuna didn't blame her but, before he could try to stammer out an excuse, letting go of Yamamoto's elbow, Mochida Kensuke butted in and he was free of any obligation.

"She looks uncomfortable," Reborn said, sly as ever, and Tsuna couldn't stop the shudder of inexplicable fear that slithered down his spine. But then the weight on his head was gone and, before he could twist to see where Reborn had gone, he was stumbling forward and throwing arms out all askew with a warning squawk as he crashed into Mochida and Kyoko.

"Watch where you're going!" Mochida said, viciously shoving Tsuna back, who had to catch himself against the wall of the building.

"K-Kyoko-chan, can I t-talk to you about the homework?!" Tsuna squeaked out, louder than necessarily, and was almost confused to see relief briefly cross her face.

Mochida made a noise that Tsuna could only describe as snide as he interrupted with, "Are you trying to make a move on my girl?"

Affronted in a way he couldn't explain, Tsuna spluttered and pointed out, "Kyoko-chan i-isn't _anyone's_ girl, s-she's her own person!"

"Huh?!" Mochida sneered, looming into Tsuna's space even as the brunet frantically scrambled against the brick to try and get away.

"Fine. Me, you and the gym. After school. We're going to settle this like _men_ and Kyoko'll see who the better of the both of us is."

Tsuna tried to disagree, actually taking a half step forward, but then tiny fingers were digging into the muscle of his calf and instead he fell down into a crouch with a noise of pain, garnering strange looks even as Mochida strode triumphantly away.

"It sounds like fun, Tsuna! I'll be there to watch!" Yamamoto said to him, sounding as cheery as ever as he reached down to help Tsuna up, Kyoko by his side, who looked both thankful and exasperated.

Tsuna looked across to Reborn as he accepted the help to get to his feet and, deep down inside, he was sure he felt the first stirrings of murder. It was either that or indigestion.

* * *

Mochida wanted them to beat their differences apart with kendo sticks.

Tsuna didn't know the first rule of kendo, just staring dumbly from his side of the gym as Mochida was packed into some strange, padded armour looking stuff.

He didn't get padded armour looking stuff.

 _This is rigged_ , he thought slowly. _This is gonna hurt._

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto called from somewhere to his right, and Tsuna turned just in time to fumble wildly to catch the kendo stick that had been thrown at him. He wondered where Yamamoto had gotten the thing from.

Then the referee – one of Mochida's club members – was yelling, _"Start!"_ and Tsuna yelped embarrassingly loud as Mochida came flying towards him and smacked him with the kendo stick he held.

It was more a game of chicken, Tsuna reflected, as he tried not to cry and dodged hits here and there. He was pretty sure kendo required three points, but Mochida was still gleefully beating on him with his shinai.

He was going to bruise so vividly he'd put art to shame.

At the same time that Mochida had tripped him up and he landed on his backside he spotted Reborn in the rafters, _another_ gun – _lizard?!_ – held in his hand, a sniper rifle ridiculously large compared to his tiny frame. The gun wasn't even wavering as he pointed it at Tsuna, unrepentant he'd been seen and Tsuna was sure he saw a smirk.

Tsuna also noticed the fluorescent light above them swaying suspiciously on its metal wires.

It was instinctive, as he scrambled to his feet, eyes on the ceiling. His thoughts were a jumble as he moved forward, not even thinking of what might happen, but then he was shoving Mochida out of the way with surprising strength, kendo stick abandoned as he threw his shoulder into Mochida's gut hard enough for the older teen to stumble backwards and fall a few feet away, dragged down by the weight of his armour.

Tsuna briefly despaired the fact that they'd used the old gym as a battling ground, creaky and worn out, and then the large light was snapping free with a _twang_ noise and it had smashed into his back before he could get far enough away.

There wasn't really anything else to say about that.

* * *

Someone was heaving, and the noise echoed. Tsuna's eyes were gritty as he blinked them open, and, for once, he felt sore after a life threatening incident. There was someone next to him, a hand on his shoulder, fingers digging in.

Yamamoto was curled over him, holding on tight as he shook with silent sobs and made muffled noises into his fist. The noise he did make was hoarse, broken, like his throat was sore, and occasionally he'd heave; the noise that had woken Tsuna up.

"Y-Yamamoto," Tsuna croaked, coughing wetly and feeling something stain his lips briefly, the coppery tang of blood filling his mouth.

No one had ever stayed after he'd died. That meant Yamamoto had leveraged himself, somehow, into the same boat as his mother.

Yamamoto sat up so suddenly it was if he had been electrocuted, and Tsuna offered a weak smile.

"T-Tsuna," Yamamoto whispered, voice rife with disbelief, his entire body trembling as he lifted his hands to nervously hover.

"H-Help me out?" Tsuna asked, feeling his eyelids flutter as everything around him blurred. A quick glance of the gym showed it empty.

Yamamoto seemed in shock, but jerkily moved to help lift the edge of the metal casing so Tsuna could slowly and painfully move to drag himself out of the mess of glass and filament.

As soon as Tsuna was free, he rolled over agonisingly slowly and sat up, before staring at the mess that was his legs, swaying briefly. His entire torso throbbed in pain and his side was burning with every breath.

Yamamoto immediately dropped in beside him on his knees and helped, with shaking hands, to keep him upright.

"W-We need to call a-an ambulance, o-or something or – " Yamamoto looked broken and helpless and it made Tsuna want to comfort him.

"N-No," he whispered in reply. "T-Trust me, p-please Yamamoto."

"Tsuna - !"

" _Takeshi,"_ Tsuna pleaded, his voice a wet wheeze and rattle, and the use of his first name made Yamamoto pause, made him look closer, face still stricken and, whatever he saw in Tsuna's expression made him curse suddenly and vehemently before he sat back and stayed stubbornly close.

"I-It's going to happen a-again," Tsuna warned as the edge of his vision flickered black. "D-Don't panic. Y-You can leave i-if you need to b-but it's going t-to happen again."

"What's going to happen again?" Yamamoto asked, voice pitched slightly in worry as looked into Tsuna's face.

"I'm b-bleeding out," Tsuna said instead of trying to explain, teeth chattering briefly. He'd gotten cold very, very quickly, and the red of his blood was vivid against the polished wood of the floor.

Yamamoto's eyes flickered to his legs, countenance faltering at what he saw, shards of glass and bloody, messy pulp and Tsuna saw something fall into place into Yamamoto's head. Tsuna didn't try to explain that the internal bleeding he undoubtedly had was still an issue as well.

"Y-You're going to die," Yamamoto said, voice cracking. "That's what you mean. T-The ambulance wouldn't get here in time, w-would it?"

"I-I'm sorry, Y-Yamamoto," Tsuna whispered, swaying in place again until Yamamoto sat by close and dragged him into his side. The taller teen was trembling violent, his arm tight and firm around Tsuna's shoulders.

"Call me Takeshi," was his reply, Yamamoto's voice quiet and wrecked and so, _so_ hurt that Tsuna wished this hadn't happened.

"If you're going to d-die, I want you to at least say my n-name Tsuna."

"T-Takeshi," Tsuna couldn't help but laugh, painful, watery, bloody, letting his eyes fall shut. There was the odd sensation of something shifting around inside of him, like there was a creature curled under his ribcage and it was stretching out. Tsuna briefly entertained the thought that his organs were rearranging themselves, back into place.

"Thanks," he heard Yamamoto whisper to him.

But it was cold, so cold, and he wanted to shut his eyes just for a moment, to catch his bearings…

He felt a little bad for not replying to Yamamoto's panicked shout, couldn't reassure him but everything was fading out and then…then there was peace.

* * *

Chapter Two! Probably a little darker than I expected but...it was never gonna be pretty, dying.

Hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – So. That Happened

"Are you okay, Yamamoto?" Tsuna found himself asking, pale, bloody fingers gripping tightly onto the bottle of water Yamamoto had shoved at him.

Yamamoto, as white as sheet and looking as if his world was falling apart, just stared.

"I can explain," Tsuna added, voice just a whisper and, when he couldn't help but shiver and sniffle, Yamamoto seemed to burst into action, rummaging wildly through his bag until he reverently pulled out his jacket and draped it around Tsuna's shoulders.

When Tsuna tried to stop him, to say he didn't need it, the look on Yamamoto's face quickly shut him up. His friend was obviously just one wrong word away, one wrong move away, from falling off the edge.

"You said you could…you could explain?" Yamamoto asked, voice unsure as he glanced towards the mess of glass and blood that Tsuna had pulled himself away from not even five minutes before after waking for the second time.

Tsuna tugged the jacket a little tighter around him, thankful of the warmth now that he had it and a little upset he'd be getting it bloody.

"I was hit by a car when I was eleven," Tsuna mumbled. "Stood up from the impact and walked away. Fell out of my window and broke my neck and spine the year after. A few accidents here and there after that. Every time I can just…I can get to my feet and walk away. Apart from my mum, you're the only one to stay after."

"A-About that…" Yamamoto looked across the gym. "After the light hit you, people screamed and scattered but…but no one seemed remotely concerned that you…and..."

"I understand," Tsuna said softly, reaching out a hand to squeeze Yamamoto's wrist. Yamamoto abruptly snatched up his hand and held on tight, as if afraid of losing Tsuna. Tsuna felt the ache all the way down to his heart that he'd caused this.

"People who aren't close to me aren't affected. That's all I can really say about that. But, because we're friends…I'm sorry you had to go through that. Mum did her best to push it to the back of mind so, now, whenever it happens she just tells me to wash my hands and make sure I am clean for dinner."

"They didn't even hear me shouting at them," Yamamoto said bluntly, voice almost dead. "I was sat by you shouting at them, at anyone, to get help but they just congratulated Mochida-senpai and walked away. Someone mentioned telling a teacher about the glass but…"

"I'm sorry," Tsuna repeated, hunching his shoulders almost defensively and was surprised when Yamamoto reached across to grab his shoulders, eyes suddenly fierce.

"No, Tsuna. _I'm_ sorry. I'm sorry that you had to go through all that at the age of eleven and onwards with no one caring and…sure, it was awful to see but you're _alive_ and I haven't lost you or anything so…so I'm _thankful_ you have this thing."

"But you had to see me die," Tsuna said, lost and quiet and Yamamoto just made a despairing noise and yanked him close for an ungraceful hug, arms tight and painful around him.

Tsuna still found himself dropping the water bottle to hug Yamamoto back.

For some reason, he found himself crying.

He reckoned that was what it felt like finding someone who could finally see him, outside of his mother.

* * *

"Should we clean up the mess?" Yamamoto asked after some time, scrubbing at his eye with the heel of his palm.

Tsuna stared at the pile of glass in the gym, at the bloodstains and wondered that himself.

"No one…no one seems to care. Sure there's the initial panic over there being a mess, and there being blood but…I don't know. It sort of glazes over. I've yet to work out how all this works, after all." Unable to help himself, he let his fingertips dance over his ruined trousers, catching in holes and tears to feel unblemished skin.

"It pushed itself out," Yamamoto mumbled suddenly. "The glass in your legs. Just…popped out. Do…can you feel it?"

"Normally, no. It sorts itself out and I wake up. I was in pain this time, though. I'm guessing initially being hit by the thing killed me instantly. The only injuries healed are the ones that cause the death, I've noticed. So I don't wake up completely injury free. I've still got some aches and probably have bruises from Mochida-senpai hitting me."

Yamamoto fell silent and just stared after that, still sat against the wall and watching Tsuna closely, as if afraid he would disappear if he looked away.

"Last year," was said so suddenly Tsuna flinched before he felt his breath catch in his throat, realising what was going to happen.

"Y-Yamamoto…Takeshi," he began, trying to stop what was about to happen.

"You died because of _me_ last year."

"N-No, I – "

"Don't lie to me, Tsuna. It's almost an insult." Yamamoto threw an arm out so quickly Tsuna tried to lurch away, only for the arm to settle around him and pull him close again, tight into Yamamoto's side.

"You're very introspective for a fourteen year old," Tsuna muttered instead and the tension was abruptly broken by Yamamoto tentatively asking, "What does that mean?"

* * *

"The future Decimo does not run from fights," was loudly declared as Tsuna entered his bedroom, still bundled in Yamamoto's jacket, and wearing borrowed tracksuit bottoms, also Yamamoto's.

The breathless squeak that left Tsuna as he sank down the doorway in fright was a noise he would deny for the rest of his life.

"I didn't run away!" Tsuna replied, and waited for the inevitable blow. He was not disappointed, and nursed his head as he trudged towards his bed.

"Mochida won the fight while you, conveniently, weren't there. You fled," Reborn accused.

"What happened after the light fell, Reborn?" Tsuna answered back, as quick as a whip and sharp as a knife and he was rewarded with the sight of Reborn's face twitching slightly from its rigid expression.

"Everyone left the gym. You were not there. Neither was Yamamoto." Reborn's face twitched again and Tsuna liked to think that whatever was happening in his head was like a hard reboot as the tiny hitman tried to figure out what exactly had happened with no success.

Tsuna dropped his bag at the desk as Reborn contemplated silently in the middle of the room.

"The light fell. Before that, you pushed Mochida back – completely unrefined, you need to work on your strength – but then…"

"It's okay you don't remember," Tsuna mumbled to himself, and shucked off Yamamoto's jacket. "And if you try to, it'll make it worse."

They never remembered. Not even when he put the facts in their head. Something just stopped them from putting the pieces together.

He plucked at his bloody shirt and waited for concern to cross Reborn's face but, instead, was graced with a lax, unseeing expression as the otherworldly thing that kept him alive and out of people's minds worked its magic on Reborn before he could see that Tsuna had been injured.

By the time Reborn had been still for more than ten minutes Tsuna was in clean clothes and had bundled all of the bloody stuff into the wash basket. He didn't want the questions Reborn would ask him about the blood, not when he'd already forgotten what he was trying to remember.

"You were going to help me with mathematics tonight, right Reborn?" Tsuna asked, a little louder than necessary, and that seemed to snap Reborn out of his trance like state.

The fact Reborn didn't launch immediately into questions, when he didn't demand over Tsuna's health or berate him for losing the kendo match, left a bitter taste in Tsuna's mouth.

There was still a warm, heavy lump in his chest when he remembered that Yamamoto was no firmly in his corner no matter what.

It was either that, or his ribs were still healing.

The hit over the head Reborn gave him for interrupting wasn't merited though, and he made sure to complain.

* * *

Despite using pain as an incentive _and_ a deterrent, Reborn's teaching methods were arguably giving results, Tsuna determined. After eight days of rigid training that involved more gunfire than he thought his teenage years would have (no deaths, surprisingly, Reborn shot to scare not to kill) his test scores had increased by an average of about six points.

Not a huge amount, but an increase nonetheless.

Hey, Tsuna might actually have passable scores by the end of the term, and wasn't that a pleasing thought?

He could only pass if he lived that long.

Staring at Hibari down the hallway where he'd been trying to creep into his classroom after he'd been late leaving, Tsuna didn't think he'd survive.

"Herbivore. You're late." Hibari's voice was dispassionate and Tsuna felt a prickle down his spine from both fear and the feeling someone – probably a sadistic Reborn – watching him.

"H-Hibari-san!" Tsuna stuttered. "I-It wasn't my fault, I-I – "

" _I'm going to bite you to death."_

Tsuna made a noise that was akin to a drowning cat and bolted, bag slapping against his side with every step. The rapid tapping behind him made no mistake he was being quickly pursued.

The only way he could really have a chance of making it was if he left the school grounds. He'd get a worse punishment when Hibari caught him next for ditching lessons, but at least he'd be able to gather his bearings.

Right?

He took the corner and nearly slipped during the corner, elbow bouncing off the window sill as he went wide.

Hibari apparently took the corner less gracefully, because a noise that sounded like a mortar impacting sounded from behind him, and Tsuna could help but shriek as he ran faster for the stairs.

Someone was walking up the stairs, apparently. They also hadn't heard Tsuna's screams of horror or the sounds of pursuit. The young girl looked shocked as Tsuna came flying towards her at a speed befitting of being chased by a monster.

Something inside Tsuna went a little quiet, his hysteria taking a backseat to the new calm that was washing through him as he slammed bodily into what he guessed was a student from a younger class.

Everything seemed to slow down as he grabbed her by the upper arms and abruptly twisted, not to place her between him and Hibari – even he wasn't that cruel – but because she had started to fall, and he wanted to be the one to take the tumble instead of seeing her hurt.

As he pushed her forward, his left foot slamming heavily down on the top of the step, he thought he'd made it. His right foot, landing as heavily as the left but too far over the edge of the step, proved that wrong.

The girl was on her knees, sobbing in fright.

Hibari was close enough for Tsuna to see his dark eyes narrow in concentration, a hint of panic flashing across the normally stoic Disciplinary Leader's face as Tsuna tipped backwards.

Tsuna felt as fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, only fingertips clutching desperately and as a last ditch effort, he threw his arm out to try and grab onto Hibari in return, the prefect trying to snatch at him.

His back impacting the steps forced the air from his lungs, his next tumble over less dignified as he scrambled to grab the banister. Gravity forced him head over heels backwards, the back of his head pressed against the sharp corner of a step.

Tsuna saw the raw horror on Hibari's face, a strange expression.

Then again, he was sure the other had never seen someone die.

His neck crunched, sickening and wet.

Everything went blissfully black.

Hibari Kyouya could only watch as the boy he had been chasing ragdolled down the steps in order to prevent someone else from doing the same thing.

* * *

Tsuna woke up with a pathetic groan and immediately flinched in preparation of being attacked by Reborn for getting up late. His impromptu movement had him tumbling from what he was lying on – not his bed as his sleepy mind had thought, but a soft couch.

The memories came back all at once and he immediately wondered why he hadn't woken at the bottom of the steps, considering people left him alone after his death. In no way should he have been _moved._

Not unless Yamamoto…no, Yamamoto was off home, sick. No way could he have known and then found Tsuna.

A hand closed around his upper arm, tight and unforgiving, and Tsuna was yanked from the floor, wincing as his vision spotted white and black and he was forced to sway, to avoid falling again.

His neck was still faintly aching as he forced his head up.

Really, there was no way he could process the thought that, somehow, Hibari cared enough for him to remember Tsuna after death.

The hand clasped around his arm showed this was all too real, as did Hibari's sharp, knowing eyes.

Tsuna was less concerned with the how – he knew the mechanics of how – but _why_ exactly Hibari could see him, much less have carried him from staircase to the Committee room after his death.

Hibari didn't care did he? Tsuna was pretty sure he _couldn't_.

Then Hibari was shoving him back onto the couch and staring at him so frighteningly that Tsuna could do no more than clasp his hands tightly on his lap and wait for his judgement.

 _Maybe he likes you,_ his mind whispered.

 _Who would care for you though,_ the nastier part whispered back. _Your mother has to. You saved Yamamoto's life. He's only around because he has to be._

 _So where does that put Hibari._

Tsuna wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

* * *

He found out soon enough. He wasn't too sure if that made it any better.

* * *

Chapter Three! Hope you like it!

This is also completely unbeta'd, so if you spot any mistakes don't be afraid to let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four – First Impressions

Hibari had stared at him for a solid fifteen minutes. Every move on Tsuna's side had been thwarted and when – only when – he'd mentioned he'd be late to his next class did Hibari let him stand from the couch and leave the room.

He proceeded to stalk, or escort, or whatever it was, Tsuna to his next class by following him so close behind that Tsuna felt nerves prickle his skin with goosebumps.

The urge to ask Hibari how, why, when he could see Tsuna was on the tip of his tongue and he blurted it when they reached his classroom, whirling on the frightening senior.

"H-Hibari-san! How come you saw me die?"

Hibari looked at him like he was a particularly difficult puzzle – or his next murder victim, Tsuna mentally despaired – and then sharply said, "Don't run in the hallways. I'm going to walk you to your next class after this lesson to enforce this. If you try to escape, I will hunt you down."

 _That doesn't answer my question,_ Tsuna wanted to scream, nearly tearing at his hair. _How can you remember?_

Instead, he smiled stiffly and darted into the classroom so quickly he almost stumbled over his own feet, tripping in the doorway and ignoring the titters at his expense.

Hibari had his scent.

Tsuna was fairly certain he was now on some sort of obscure hit list.

Then Reborn appeared on the windowsill next to him and Tsuna nearly had a heart attack.

* * *

The next morning, when Tsuna trudged downstairs, yawning pathetically and fighting with his shirt collar, he was more than a little surprised to see Yamamoto and Hibari staring each down from across his kitchen table, Nana humming merrily all the while.

Yamamoto was rather viciously eating toast whereas Hibari had an untouched plate in front of him.

Tsuna froze for so long in the doorway that Reborn kicked him in the back of the knees and he was forced to stumble forward, drawing attention to himself.

"Uh…"

"Breakfast, Tsu-kun!" Nana said brightly, gliding over to usher him into a seat that, unfortunately, was closer to Hibari than to Yamamoto. Yamamoto wasted no time in picking up his plate and moving over two seats in order to box Tsuna in.

It made Tsuna feel a little better that Yamamoto wasn't leaving him to the wolves.

It did _not_ explain what Hibari was doing in his house and apparently being served breakfast by his mother.

"I heard you took a tumble yesterday, Tsuna," his mother declared as she set a plate in front of him. It almost physically hurt Tsuna to see the guarded expression in her eyes, the hurt tinging her words.

He couldn't stop himself from glancing at Reborn, because he was certain the proclaimed hitman would have no idea what his mother meant.

"I heard that too," Yamamoto said, voice surprisingly cheerful despite the dark glint to his eyes as he continued to stare at Hibari over Tsuna's head.

Tsuna stared at his food and stayed stubbornly silent, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was happening. No one had ever _approached_ him about this problem before.

And he still didn't understand why Hibari was _in his kitchen._

"Well, I'm alright now!" Tsuna laughed with false cheer and abruptly became the centre of attention, something he tried to dispute by quickly cramming food into his mouth as fast as he could without choking.

Hibari was remaining frighteningly quiet and Reborn had disappeared somewhere, somehow, and Tsuna was acutely aware of everything going on around him as he tried to disappear into his chair.

Everything seemed to happen in the kitchen.

Reborn, Yamamoto and now Hibari.

His mother was very trusting and his life was very complicated.

A few more minutes in it became too much and Tsuna burst out with, "What are you doing in my house, Hibari-san?!"

"Tsu-kun, don't be so rude!" His mother admonished from the other side of the room where she had been clattering with the dishes.

"Since entering Namimori Middle School you have entered a deceased state approximately six times in the last two years."

Tsuna snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, mind whirling as he tried to determine how exactly Hibari knew that. He wasn't about to admit that the number was closer to ten than Hibari, or even Yamamoto knew.

The silence stretched out before Tsuna pointed out, weakly, quietly, and wary of being injured, "B-But how can you s-see me, H-Hibari-san?"

"Because I chose to," Hibari replied sharply and then chose to stand so abruptly that Tsuna flinched into Yamamoto, trying to hide against his friend as Hibari leaned in unbearably close.

"No one gets hurt in my school, herbivore. You managed to. This is a situation that _will_ be rectified."

Tsuna chose not to point out that it didn't answer his question and instead stared, dumbfounded and afraid up at Hibari.

"You are to tell me whenever you are injured mortally. If you don't tell me, I will bite you to death."

"Hibari-san," Tsuna hissed feeling emboldened and ignoring the curl of fear in his stomach at the sharp look he was given. Regardless, he forged on, "Hibari-san, that is all fine and well, _but not in front of my mother."_

Indeed, his mother was pressed into the furthest corner of the kitchen where she had been fruitlessly washing the same plate for the entirety of the conversation, bright points of blotchy colour on her cheeks and eyes red with unshed tears.

Hibari eyed him closely and then walked towards the front door. By the lack of the latch clicking, Tsuna determined he had just chosen to stand there in vigilance until Tsuna readied himself to leave.

He was going to be escorted _to school._ He didn't know if it was terrifying or embarrassing.

"Six times, Tsuna?" Yamamoto asked from his side, voice close but quiet and upset and Tsuna felt his appetite leave him as his heart shrivelled a little in response to the pain his friend's voice.

"Something like that," Tsuna mumbled, staring at the half eaten toast on his plate.

"The gym. The fall for me. Yesterday, if Hibari-senpai is true. When else, Tsuna?"

"Yamamoto," Tsuna said desperately. "Please. Please not in the house, not in the kitchen. Not here. I'll tell you if you need to know but." And then, embarrassingly, he hiccupped, the sob catching in his throat and Yamamoto seemed to shake himself out of the funk he'd gotten into.

The arm around his shoulder was comforting but Tsuna didn't want to be seen succumbing to weakness in front of his mother, so he shrugged free of the hold, crossed the room to hug his precious mama tightly from behind, and whispered a soft goodbye before he quickly absconded from the kitchen to gather his bag from the hallway and face the calamity that was Hibari again.

As soon as Tsuna made it clear of the front yard, he crouched with his back against the wall, pressed his face into his hands, and tried not to scream.

Every day he tried to take normally just got more and more complicated and already it was wearing him down.

"Whoa, Tsuna, are you feeling okay?" Yamamoto voiced the question as if he really needed to ask.

Tsuna made a frightening noise then, more of a keen, like an injured animal and apparently so worrying that Hibari hauled him to the feet by the scruff of his neck. Tsuna didn't even fight back, scraping his hands over his head and swallowing the urge to just slump back down.

"I will not tolerate tardiness," Hibari simply told him and then strode down the street. It was the sharpness of his voice, the undercurrents that promised violence, that incited Tsuna to start trudging down the street, not even flinching this time when Reborn appeared on the wall next to him as if he'd been there the entire time.

* * *

They made it to the school without incident, and Mochida, who had taken to teasing Tsuna ruthlessly every day since the kendo-gym incident, chose to leave him alone that morning after seeing Hibari so close by.

Tsuna wanted some normalcy in his life.

Apparently he wasn't going to get it.

And, as if to prove his point, when he walked into the classroom, Yamamoto closely behind and Reborn once again hidden from sight, there was a silver haired transfer student at the front of the class.

Tsuna hurried to his seat, Yamamoto following closely, and glanced curiously at the new student, eyes flickering between his wildly coloured hair and the bangles and rings his wrists and hands were adorned with.

By the time he made eye contact, the transfer student was staring coldly at him and Tsuna lurched back in his chair in shock, thankful for Yamamoto throwing out a hand to support him, pressed between his shoulder blades.

"He's kind of intense, huh Tsuna?" Yamamoto asked, voice mirthful despite the fact that Tsuna could almost see the killing intent wafting off of the person at the front of the class in visible waves.

"Uh, sure?" Tsuna squeaked out, committing the name 'Gokudera Hayato' to memory as the teacher introduced him and unsuccessfully convinced him to remove his multitudes of jewellery.

But then this Gokudera student was striding down between the desks, stopping in front of Tsuna and staring down at him, intimidatingly. Then, just as abruptly, he kicked Tsuna's desk violently enough to knock it over and then moved to take his own seat.

Tsuna was pretty sure Yamamoto was unaware the hand on his back had turned tense, fingertips digging in and he just weakly laughed the incident off so Yamamoto wouldn't act recklessly in his defence.

Tsuna was a very easy target after all, small and unassuming, and this Gokudera guy, a transfer from Italy apparently, seemed the type to bully the weaker kids.

It didn't help the unease that had settled in his stomach.

* * *

"Hey, Tsuna, I've got to catch up with club activities for the first ten minutes of lunch," Yamamoto abruptly said as they were packing their bags. "Did you want to come with me, or meet in the usual place?"

"Ah, we can meet in the usual place…" Tsuna decided very quickly, considering he was certain that a majority of the baseball club wasn't very fond of him and his friendship with Yamamoto.

As they made their way to the door, he glanced around surreptitiously to see if he could spot Hibari anywhere nearby. When he couldn't see the prefect anywhere, Tsuna bid farewell to Yamamoto and strode down the corridor.

The place he and Yamamoto liked to go to was on the far side of the school, a little rundown and unkempt and, up until the year before, was a prime spot for the elder years to smoke, drink and get into fights.

It had taken a few weeks, but he and Yamamoto had cleared the worst of the mess away from and off of the bench set against the wall of the building and so, every day, they would sit down and talk aimlessly about anything and everything.

Tsuna sat down on the bench and rummaged through his bag to fish out his lunch, wondering what his mother had packed for him that day, setting the box of food on his lap and easing the lid off.

"Pathetic," was muttered a little ahead of him and Tsuna flinched, lifting his head up in brief panic, only to see Gokudera there, fiddling with a lighter in order to light up a cigarette.

 _What fourteen year old smokes?_ Tsuna shrieked in the safety of his mind but instead pretended he hadn't heard, noticing absently that his mother had packed extra once again, for Yamamoto.

Apparently having no answer was the wrong answer.

"I can't believe you're to be the tenth boss of the Vongola Family," Gokudera sneered, leaning in and blowing out acrid smoke into Tsuna's face, enough to make his stomach twist with disgust.

"Who told you that?" Tsuna asked, surprised, and tried not to flail when Reborn was suddenly next to him and plucking at the food in his lunchbox.

"I did, Dame-Tsuna."

"Do you stand by what you said, Reborn?" Gokudera asked, eyes drifting towards the tiny hitman. "That, if I kill this little brat, I get to become the tenth boss?"

"What?" Tsuna squeaked at the same time Reborn said, "Yes," and stole a riceball.

Gokudera grinned widely, wholly unrepentant, and Tsuna felt horror slither down his spine as the boy opposite him pulled out what looked like sticks of dynamite from his pockets.

"You _cannot_ be serious," Tsuna blurted, making his way to his feet after reverently setting his lunch to the side. His hands were trembling and he had to twist his fingers together to hide it.

This seemed to disgust Gokudera more, who lifted the dynamite close enough to the lit cigarette in his mouth for the fuses to catch alight.

Tsuna was forced to screech and dive to the side out of the way when _yes,_ Gokudera was definitely serious and the fact he was dealing with some serious firepower here.

 _Fourteen!_ His mind wailed again.

"Gokudera's primary ability is that he can hide copious amount of explosives on himself," Reborn narrated cheerfully. "In fact, in certain circles within the mafia world, he is known as 'Smokin' Bomb Hayato."

"Fourteen!" Tsuna shouted, out loud this time. "We're both _fourteen!"_

"Stand still!" Gokudera snarled in return, dynamite appearing clasped between his fingers faster than Tsuna could keep track off, each and every one of the being lit almost quicker than he could dodge them landing at his feet, where he would promptly stamp them out rather than letting them explode like the first two had – completely destroying the side of the bench he'd been sat on, jagged metal spikes where the feet had been the only remainders.

There was a popping sound from his left, a sharp sudden pain in his forehead but then the world seemed to be slowing down, dodging became easier and Tsuna became aware of the fire merrily crackling away on his forehead.

In fact, the world had dimmed enough around him that it wasn't too much of an issue to leisurely pinch the fuses out instead of simply stamping on them – and really, he was lucky he hadn't lost a foot that way.

It became less leisurely and more of a race when Gokudera bit off more than he could chew and the explosive weaponry fanned out around the silver haired teenager, who looked first frightened then resigned.

But, less than thirty seconds later, Tsuna was pinching out the very last one, fingertips callused from the faint burning and the fire sizzling out.

He waited for Gokudera to – figuratively – explode at him, but instead the other started fawning over him, staring at him with unadulterated acceptance and wonder, and it was such a one eighty of his previous attitude that Tsuna was rightfully shocked.

It was a few moments after that that Gokudera's expression flickered down and to the side, brief horror crossing his features.

"Tenth - !" he started, reaching out just as Tsuna looked down as well at the fuse merrily burning away on the awry piece of explosive he must have missed.

It wasn't close enough to much damage really, blowing out a crater near his foot and making him stumble back with no balance.

The fall was graceless, all flailing limbs as Tsuna tipped over with no hope of catching himself, no matter how quickly Gokudera reached forward.

The pain was so unexpected and so sharp that Tsuna couldn't help but give a strangled scream as he fell backwards with all of his weight on the remains of the metal bench stump, the edge tearing through his back and scraping through and past his organs to messily break out of his stomach, glistening with blood.

Gokudera gave his own startled shriek, almost amusingly high pitched, but all Tsuna could focus on was the burning agony centred around the metal spike jutting from his abdomen, every sluggish beat of his heart spreading the pain further and further.

He was choking on his own blood, drowning on it, and all he could do was scramble at his chest as he fought to breathe past the pain, his vision flickering and blurring but not fast enough, not quick enough and Tsuna found himself wishing he would just die already, have it over and done with.

Gokudera's face was swimming in and out of view above him, eyes wide and horrified and so full of abject terror that Tsuna did his absolute best to reassure him and only succeeded in coughing up a mouthful of dark, gritty blood, ever jar of his body some new fresh Hell in terms of pain.

He blacked out for only a handful of seconds but when his vision refocused – _just stop already, stop, let me die,_ he pleaded – Yamamoto was there, fist in Gokudera's shirt collar and shouting nonsensical words that Tsuna couldn't make sense of at a distance.

There was a tiny hand in his own, fingers only big enough to be curled around his thumb and a quiet, reverent voice,

" _I never meant for it to be like this Tsuna. I never did."_

But then his wish was answered and Tsuna almost thankfully took in his last breath, conscious and life falling from between his fingertips as readily as the blood that bled from his side

* * *

Nothing to say about this one!

Still unbeta'd and maybe a little more gory than the previous chapters. Oh well! Hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Interlude - Hibari

Interlude – Hibari Kyouya

He was crossing the road when the small body crashed into him, a tiny brunet with wide, frightened eyes. Then there was the loud horn of a truck, the squealing of brakes.

After that, he was at the school building with vague memories of how he got there, his normal route etched into his brain, but nothing about _when_ he got there.

Something in the back of his mind niggled incessantly that something was missing. He shouldn't be at school yet, he'd only left five minutes ago, but a cursory glance at his watch showed the truth and he was right on time.

Perhaps a case of déjà vu, or that his mind had wandered.

But, Hibari Kyouya, at fourteen years old and keen beyond his age, was not so sure.

* * *

The boy that was being bullied – _pathetic, weak, herbivore, familiar?_ – had large eyes and a pale countenance and Hibari was so sure he'd seen him before, that he couldn't help but stare so intensely that his kouhai uncomfortably squirmed on the spot.

There was a fleck of blood on the boy's forehead, red and stark and but that was just a fleeting thought, there couldn't have been any blood, he would have _seen._

He couldn't remember why he was by the roadside, let the frightened herbivore scurry off, tiny hands lifting to press against tiny wounds.

The bullies were not so lucky to escape.

Crowding was not tolerated.

* * *

If Hibari had been the type to broadcast his emotions, one could almost say he was concerned.

His mind was awhirl, thoughts spinning and twisting and memories contorting as he watched, from his perch in a tree, as the young teen pulled himself free of the concrete _where he had not been five seconds before._

Between blinks the brunet had appeared, favouring his left arm and staring wistfully at the sky, unaware of the prefect not ten metres away.

Hibari was wracking his mind trying to remember the points from A to B that had led to the other student appearing as if out of thin air.

The amount of blood on the floor was enough to look as if a murder had taken place but Hibari soon found himself less than caring, the thoughts and worries slipping away like leaves snatched in the wind.

* * *

The boy – Tsunayoshi Sawada – was thirteen years old, a first year at Namimori Middle School, and was currently talking the baseball player down from attempted suicide.

His face was serene, calm, his entire body focused on the person next to him. His eyes though, his eyes, blazed with the colour of a setting sun and Hibari felt a deep, grudging respect settle down inside of him.

Those weren't the eyes of a herbivore, but of something much, much more.

Tsunayoshi Sawada fell from the rooftop and Hibari watched, dumbstruck for the first time in his life, as no one rushed to his help.

And, all of a sudden, he could _see._

Like the floodgates had been opened, memories came rushing back.

* * *

 _A worried Tsuna, so young, sprinting the short distance between him and the road to push Hibari out of the way of an oncoming truck, his body hitting the front grille with a thick, wet splat, his body tumbling away, oh so broken and bloody._

* * *

 _Of Sawada being pushed to the floor viciously by teenagers older than him, stronger than him, from the high school._

 _A skull bouncing off of the road with a harsh push, the screws too dark to see before they broke skin and bone and brain matter._

 _Of Namimori Middle school students laughing as they came across his unconscious body, blind of the blood staining his hair and teasing him mercilessly until he awoke._

* * *

 _Tsuna rescuing a cat from the tree, the animal yowling and scratching and mauling until he fell from the highest branches with barely a peep, curling protectively around the creature and sacrificing his spine and life in too easy a movement as he bounced off of branches and the ground alike._

* * *

 _Slipping from the rooftop, his face accepting and so tired as he the side of his head met concrete and blood began to pool._

* * *

Hibari had a respect for Tsunayoshi Sawada that he couldn't name the cause of. It was a mix of his selflessness, his disregard of his own life to save others in stupid, _stupid_ actions, of saving Yamamoto Takeshi's life instead of cowering away, and the _something else_ that drove him to do that.

He took care not to treat him any different but decided to watch closely whenever he came across the curious brunet and did so for the next year, without incident.

It was a close thing, when he almost stayed behind to watch the aftermath of Tsuna being crushed by the fluorescent light, but it was far too soon to make an appearance of interest.

But then it was _him_ causing the accident, hearing the stomach churning _snap-crunch_ of vertebrae giving way, of bright life leaking free of eyes, of a limp body at the bottom of a staircase and, for the first time in years, Hibari felt disdain for _himself._

From there it wasn't too hard to come to the conclusion that, while Tsunayoshi Sawada may not be _exactly_ a herbivore, he still needed protection. Hibari, at the very least, knew how to do that.

And, to rectify his mistake, he would begin immediately.

* * *

Admittedly, his meeting with Yamamoto Takeshi, another self-proclaimed protector of Tsuna, could have gone better.

But Hibari refused to do anything but the best, or give anything less than his best.

He _was_ going to keep this simplistic human from further harm.

If the other teen got in the way, he would be struck down without remorse. So long as he was helpful, Hibari would let him stay.

* * *

A very, _very_ small part of him whispered, _what the fuck_ when he got his first glimpse of the very cognizant baby called Reborn. The other, larger part of him, bristled at the encroachment of something dangerous on his territory.

At least guarding the frustrating enigma that was Tsunayoshi wouldn't be boring.

* * *

I thought I'd try something different, and introduce a little interlude! Not every character will get this because of the content needed.

Regardless, Hibari is a very difficult character to write. I like him, as a fan. As a writer, he's _difficult._

Hopefully/maybe this'll clear some questions for some of you! Hope you like it!


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five - And The Walls Come Crumbling Down

Yamamoto Takeshi couldn't remember the last time he was angry as he was with his fist holding the collar of Gokudera's shirt, of the imprint of Tsuna's struggling form burned into his retinas as the teenager struggled to breathe.

But anger would get him nowhere. And as Tsuna's breathing gurgled into quietness Yamamoto loosened his fingers from Gokudera's shirt, let him go and expected to watch him turn and walk away like nothing had happened.

Two heartbeats later and Gokudera was still as present, and still as horrified, mouth opening and closing fruitlessly, his skin pale and blotchy

The anger eased into something different that Yamamoto couldn't name.

But then Gokudera saw something past Yamamoto's shoulder and he was stuttering, "R-Reborn! Reborn, where are you going?!"

Yamamoto turned to see as well, as the tiny figure by Tsuna's side creaked almost robotically to his feet and took an abrupt about turn to stride away, face eerily lax and peaceful for what he had just witnessed.

"He can't see," Yamamoto found himself saying, the words weird and foreign in his mouth. "But I think you can, Gokudera-san."

"S-See? Of _course_ I can see, it's kind of hard to miss!" Gokudera exploded, gesturing wildly back to where Tsuna's body was and, when he gazed upon the blood again, what colour his cheeks had gained from his outburst was easily lost again.

"It'll make sense soon," Yamamoto offered, sounding a little bit more cryptic than he wanted to and he moved to shuck off his jacket, inwardly mourning at the loss of another piece of clothing as he flapped it out and then spread it on the floor.

He didn't really want Tsuna waking up on the ground after all.

"What are you _doing?"_ Gokudera asked, voice pitched high as he scrambled in his pockets. "We need to call the police, or the ambulance, or – or – " he was cut off as the phone he had dug out was smacked from his hand with a glint of metal, the plastic hitting the wall with a crunch.

Yamamoto fell still in his actions, eyeing Hibari warily even as he stopped smoothing the jacket out.

Hibari surveyed his surroundings with an almost coy tilt to his head, mouth pressed into a tight, grim line as he focused on Tsuna, hand gripping his tonfa with a white knuckled grip. His judgemental gaze snapped to Yamamoto, who realised what was wanted of him before the prefect even had to speak.

Rushing over and suppressing his gag reflex at the lingering smell of blood and gore, Yamamoto took a grip of Tsuna's shoulders, cold and thin under his hands, whereas Hibari secured a grip underneath the body's waist – and how awful it was, to call him a body, when he was Tsuna, quiet, but outspoken amongst friends, and always so bright but now so still.

Together, they pulled him free with a wet _shlick_ sort of noise, and Yamamoto heard Gokudera be sick in the background as the two dark haired teens hobbled over, precious cargo between them, in order to set Tsuna down on the jacket.

It took several long moments for Yamamoto to pull his attention away from the blood on his hands and he truly had to wonder how he had been so blind for so long.

Six times, two years. He'd been friends with Tsuna for a little over fourteen months.

How much had he missed before, how many times had Tsuna gone above and beyond, only to suffer by himself, alone and frightened, in pain?

Hibari had pulled out a small flipbook from somewhere, scribbling into it and seemingly blind to the red staining his fingers, to the blood on his palms, Tsuna's blood, _Tsuna's_ and that was enough for Yamamoto as he turned away and emptied his stomach, the muscles in his abdomen uselessly spasming.

The hole in Tsuna looked big enough for Yamamoto to fit his fist in, torn and ragged and far too bright with blood, though he refrained from following such a morbid thought, fingers curling uselessly.

His previously pristine white shirt was speckled in blood.

Gokudera was staring from where he was hunkered down, protective arm curled over his stomach. No doubt he thought them insane for standing so calm and still when someone had just _died_ in front of them.

Yamamoto was abruptly reminded that Gokudera could see, could remember.

At least, that made it easier to explain.

They just had to wait for Tsuna to wake up.

The hole was still bleeding, and Yamamoto wished he still had something in his stomach to throw up to rid himself of the nausea.

* * *

Tsuna felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Thanks to bullies and Reborn, he knew fully well what it was like to get socked straight under the ribs, breath leaving lungs and muscles recoiling.

This was like that but worse, higher up in his side.

He whimpered pathetically as an attempt to move caused an ache in his side and, abruptly, there were hands in his hair, soft words shushing him.

Then there was a louder voice than that belonged to the person trying to ease him back into sleep, and this new person loudly whispered, _"What the hell."_

Tsuna recognised it blearily as Gokudera and felt hands on his shoulders, his head eased gently onto something softer. His eyelids were heavy and he still felt incredibly tired and cold.

That was about when it hit that it was _Gokudera_ who had spoken and he quickly remembered what had happened, pushing himself above and beyond as he sat up in one fluid movement that both caused him to cry out and for tears to gather in his eyes.

There was almost a _pop_ sort of noise that accompanied the pain in his front and Yamamoto – whose lap his head had been resting on – immediately grabbed his shoulders as he swayed back again.

"Whoa, Tsuna," Yamamoto said, voice warm and caring as he eased Tsuna into a seated position, his arm a steel band around Tsuna's shoulders to keep him upright.

Tsuna ducked his head to stare at himself, fingers fumbling at shirt buttons to pull the fabric aside, fingers dancing across pink skin, darker than his natural skin tone. He had woken up before fully healing but, even as he watched, the scar tissue faded until there was nothing left.

The aching pain that hadn't left suggested he still had something internal to sort out but, even as he tried to gather his bearings, that pain eased away as well.

After a muttered thanks to Yamamoto, his head still feeling muddled, his skin tacky with blood, Tsuna turned to face Gokudera, who was staring at him, wide eyed and as pale as a sheet of paper.

A weird sense of wonderment coupled with self-loathing washed over him, crashing through his body uninvited as he said, lips numb, "Y-You can see me."

"You were _dead."_ Gokudera's voice was void of anything really.

To his own horror, Tsuna had started crying. In response, Gokudera's expression crumpled and the silver haired teen fell to his knees, sobbing into his own hands.

From somewhere nearby, there was a 'tch' of someone voicing their disgust.

Even Hibari had deigned to stay.

Tsuna just cried harder and let Gokudera shuffle close enough to take a tiny pale hand in his own, still so cold, and press it to his forehead. And then Gokudera bowed himself over Tsuna's hand like the world was going to end and he was begging forgiveness before it happened.

* * *

Hibari, ever so graciously, allowed Tsuna use of the showers normally reserved for gym classes.

And, stood under the steady spray of water, uselessly shivering despite the heat steaming around him, Tsuna watched as the evidence of his latest foray into death washed down the drain in puddles of red and then pink and then finally clear.

He tried not to think about what was on the other side of the door, of Yamamoto explaining to Gokudera in stilted words and useless gestures about how Tsuna couldn't – wouldn't, shouldn't, he didn't know – die.

A shaking hand lifted to rest against his ribcage, fingertips pressing into soft flesh where before there had been a gaping hole and now was not even as much as a fleck of blood.

Pressing his back to the soap slick wall, Tsuna slid down until he was sat under the spray of almost scalding water, the cold etched in as deep as his bones and unshakeable. Tilting his head back and letting the water hit his face, Tsuna tried to pretend he had his life together.

It wasn't going very well.

At least there was no one to see the tears this time, the water sluicing his wretched sobs down the drain as easily as it had taken the blood from his skin.

* * *

Gokudera was itching for a cigarette, eyes flickering back and forth between the door, the window, the _other_ door that Tsuna was hidden behind, and back to Yamamoto.

The other teen seemed far too calm, but Gokudera could see the tiny signs, the tremble that shook fingers, the wariness and pain hidden deep behind dark eyes, the hitching of breath between sentences.

Gokudera let the words roll around in his head, trying to make sense of the impossible, even though he had seen it clearly for himself, had watched as Tsuna had come back to life from the dead.

How the hole in his abdomen had shrunk smaller and smaller in increments, faster and faster, until fifteen minutes later the only sign anything had happened was the blood on the floor, on Tsuna, on _everything._

His conscience was as stained with guilt as Yamamoto's shirt was with blood.

 _I want you to test the new Decimo candidate,_ Reborn had said, eyes dark and black and mischievous. _Put him in danger, let him dance on his toes, let him show his worth._

Tsuna had done all of that and above. And, due to Gokudera's eagerness to please, to finally find something worth _doing_ with his life, he'd killed the boy as soon as the respect had settled in.

And then he'd _come back to life._

He was really itching for a cigarette, fingers twitching relentlessly until he shoved his hands into his pockets, rolling a piece of dynamite between his fingers.

The door creaked open and Tsuna shuffled out, morose in a way Gokudera couldn't explain. The brunet was swaddled up in clothes not his own, shirt sleeves hanging over his hands and buttons buttoned haphazardly.

While his cheeks were flushed with the heat of the room he had come out of he was still shivering, and somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Gokudera registered the symptoms of shock and of blood loss.

Blood loss that should have killed a person.

The same person shivering pathetically in front of him.

Offering his jacket was the least of what he could do, apologies falling from his lips faster than he could think of them, the article of clothing held ahead of him like a peace offering, not nearly enough to atone for his sins.

Tsuna gave him a breathy thanks, a heartfelt smile, and Gokudera was almost sick again at seeing no blame in tired brown eyes as trembling hands reached forward and the tiny, fragile body was wrapped up in a jacket several sizes too big.

To Tsuna, he wasn't at fault. He wasn't sure if he was deserving of the forgiveness he was given so easily, so freely.

* * *

"So, you have your first family member," Reborn said coolly as Tsuna traipsed into the house, Gokudera almost fused to his back with how close the other teen was following him.

Tsuna gave him such an exhausted look, looking ragged in a way no fourteen year old should be, that it stopped Reborn's next comment on his tongue, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he tried to see what he had missed.

Perhaps Tsuna felt betrayal at Reborn orchestrating this fight without his knowledge?

But no, Gokudera was pale beyond what he should have been, eyes shaded and posture distraught and Yamamoto, stumbling in after Gokudera and reverently closing the door was a shade darker than his usual cheeriness.

Something had happened that he had missed.

Reborn didn't like being in the dark but somehow, somewhere, he'd been left behind. No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, he couldn't quite remember where, when, _how_ something had gone wrong.

"Yes," Tsuna finally replied, broken in a way that bewildered Reborn because _what had happened._ "Yes, I suppose I have. Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I always enjoy your mom's cooking," Yamamoto declared happily despite the downward twist of his mouth, settling his bag in the hallway.

Gokudera hesitated for a very long moment, fingers curled around the strap of his bag, and Tsuna turned to face him without even being prompted – Reborn was surprised his Hyper Intuition was already so adept – face and voice softening in an unexplainable way as he murmured, "You're welcome to stay, Gokudera-kun. Always."

"Tenth," Gokudera breathed, entire body relaxing as if his life had hinged on whatever Tsuna might have said to him, arms twitching by his sides as if he wanted to draw Tsuna into a hug.

Reborn had never felt so lost.

He hated it.

* * *

Tsuna was a little surprised when, after his friends had left – and Gokudera had looked like he'd been promised the world at being called a friend – Reborn decided to corner him in his bedroom as Tsuna was in the middle of pulling out his notes from the classes he had actually managed to attend.

"Something happened," Reborn said, sounding aloof as if he hadn't just trapped Tsuna between the wall and his very small, very intimidating, self.

Tsuna chewed his tongue as he debated the merits of lying, versus truth, when either A. Reborn wouldn't believe him or, B. Reborn would immediately forget and this conversation would wash away like any other.

"You've become serious, too," Reborn added, and this time he sounded accusatory.

Latching onto the conversation changer as if he were a thirsty man before an oasis, Tsuna quickly blurted, "I didn't actually believe you about the m-mafia stuff but meeting Gokudera…"

"Hah? You didn't believe me?" Reborn asked, voice dangerously low because no, he didn't believe what Tsuna was saying, perhaps his belief had stemmed from the incident, but that wasn't what had changed him.

But Reborn also knew desperation when he heard it, and whatever was affecting Tsuna wasn't something that could be readily said out loud. He had the feeling that if he pushed, Tsuna would just retreat further and further and then he'd never get an answer.

Reborn was patient, however. He knew when to sit down and wait, when to watch his next target and leap at the moment of weakness.

He was almost disgusted that he was thinking of Tsuna as a victim and not a student.

It didn't change the fact that what information he'd gotten about the Sawada son in the first place seemed dreadfully wrong, and that there was something lurking beneath the surface he wasn't privy to.

And that, somehow, it was linked in with Yamamoto Takeshi, Hibari Kyouya, and now Gokudera Hayato.

* * *

I have had some _crazy_ inspiration for this story lately. I have no idea why.

I was wondering if this needed to be tagged under 'Hurt/Comfort' or 'Angst'? Or both, and get rid of 'Friendship'? I don't even know.

More seriousness in this chapter. Gokudera's thoughts, Yamamoto's thoughts, Reborn's thoughts.

Regardless, I'll stop babbling. Sorry again for any mistakes, and I hope you enjoyed it!

(For those wondering about Hibari's flipbook, he's super meticulous and writes down every time Tsuna gets into an accident, fatal or otherwise. Yamamoto hasn't told Tsuna, but he has a calendar in his bedroom where he does the same.)


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six – Childish Innocence

"Reborn doesn't know, does he?" Gokudera asked suddenly, two days after the incident that had defined his life. Tsuna glanced up at him, fingers tightening absently around the pen in his hand, before he looked back down to his homework.

"It's a strange system. I thought people had to…to care to see," Tsuna pursed his lips, wrapping his free arm around himself protectively as he continued, "But, Hibari-san sees. You see. And, and I'm not saying you don't care but you had only known me for less than four hours before you could see and…"

"You sacrificed your – " And Gokudera hesitated before settling on, "Safety. To ensure I was okay."

"It's okay to say 'life' Gokudera. It's not exactly something that can easily be ignored." Unable to help himself Tsuna pressed down on his stomach, feeling the solid give of his skin and everything underneath.

"I knew I'd made a mistake when judging you and…wanted to rectify that. The fact that you…and…I respected you _so much_ Tenth, in those final moments, wished it could have been different in any other way and…"

Tsuna hummed thoughtfully, chewing on the end of his pen as he stared at the blur of letters and numbers on the papers in front of him, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.

"Maybe if the person cause the death, directly or indirectly?" Gokudera asked, voice quiet and Tsuna shook his head.

"I've been hit by a car, Gokudera-kun, and the woman forgot I existed. It's not that simple unfortunately."

"How long as m-mama known?" Gokudera fumbled over the endearment despite having been given permission from the woman herself.

"I'd rather not ask that of my mother," Tsuna immediately replied, voice harsher than he meant it to be. "I can't…Gokudera-kun, I _can't._ "

Gokudera nodded quickly in agreement, not pushing on the matter any longer before directing Tsuna's attention to question six with a murmured, "You've used the wrong equation here, tenth."

On reflex, Tsuna flinched, head ducking down as he anticipated a smack across the skull and only lifted his head to Gokudera's soft, choked snort of laughter.

"Reborn has a very unique teaching method," Tsuna found himself explaining, eyes darting to the side as he tried not to get embarrassed.

"Oh, no, I understand. I really do." Gokudera snorted again though and Tsuna would have glared at him, if it weren't for the fact he was staring at what looked like a five year old child stuck in the tree next to his bedroom window.

"Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said slowly as he stood, setting aside pens and paper. "There's a small child stuck in the tree outside."

Gokudera turned his head so fast Tsuna was afraid he'd given himself whiplash.

"T-That's!" Gokudera began, and Tsuna ambled over to the window, trying not to startle the young boy who looked like he was searching for something very intensely.

"Do you know him," Tsuna asked amicably, moving to unlatch the window in unhurried movements.

"He's a member of the Bovino family," Gokudera replied, moving to join Tsuna. "I couldn't guess as to why he's here."

"Excuse me?" Tsuna called softly, hand cupped by his mouth. "Are you lost?"

The child startled, scrambling on the branches and making Tsuna flinch forward in panic before the small boy righted himself.

"T-The great Lambo-sama doesn't need to answer questions from p-people like you!"

"Lambo-sama…" Tsuna found himself repeating before wrinkling his nose in thought, wondering what he could do to bring Lambo to safer grounds.

"Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna asked, bracing an elbow on the windowsill, head cradled in the palm of his hand. "I think my mama bought some snacks the other day, when she heard we'd be having a study session. Should we have some?"

"T-Tenth?"

"Oh, but there might be too many for just too much for just the two of us to eat, you see." Tsuna lifted his eyes briefly to make eye contact with Gokudera, gaze drifting to Lambo for a split second.

Gokudera gave him an indulgent smile as he replied, "Well, mama does like to buy in excess. If only there was a third person…I suppose the sweets will have to go to waste."

"Oh well." Tsuna sighed, stepping away from the windowsill and turning his back to Lambo as he walked towards the door.

"P-Perhaps…" Lambo said very suddenly and quietly, before his voice loudened again, "Perhaps Lambo can help!"

Tsuna was hard pressed not to smile and turned on his heel to regard the small boy, asking brightly, "Would you do that for us?"

Lambo grinned, wide and unrepentant as he declared, "Of course!"

To Tsuna's alarm he scrambled along the closest branch to the windowsill, clambering into the bedroom with all the grace of a monkey. Of course, as soon as he set foot on the inside sill, as luck would have it he slipped and careened forward.

There was a muffled thud as the five year old impacted the carpet face first and the silence that followed was dragged out and awkward.

Tsuna once he'd shaken his stupor away, reached forward as if to help Lambo, cringing back in surprise as the small boy suddenly started wailing and –

Tsuna felt himself age several years as he watched Lambo break the laws of physics and pull a bazooka straight out of his curly afro that was nearly three times as long as Lambo was tall.

"W-Wait!" Tsuna said hurriedly, darting forward at the same time as Gokudera and the three of them crumpled into a heap. When Tsuna looked up, it was to face the barrel of the bazooka and he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

Instead of pain and fire, there was a loud bang and a puff of pink smoke, a weird tugging sensation pulling at his shoulders and stretching his body almost painfully.

Coughing pitifully, Tsuna waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke, eyes squinting open in trepidation at the damage that might have been done to his bedroom.

He opened his eyes to the sight of a gun in his face, attached to a hardened looking older man he didn't recognise.

Eyes darting to the side, he caught sight of what looked like an older Yamamoto, his close friend pinned stomach down on a lavishly carpeted floor, eyes dark and hard and angry, his hands locked behind his back with handcuffs and someone sticking a boot in his kidney. Yamamoto's eyes were on his face, and, when they made eye contact, his expression softened inexplicably, even as anger tightened the corners of his bloodied mouth.

"W-What – " Tsuna began, feeling terror creep up his throat, heart ratcheting wildly in his chest.

"Oh?" Was said from above him. "The younger Decimo? Well, this makes things much simpler."

Tsuna didn't have much time left to figure out the situation.

After all, it was hard to think after having been shot point blank in the face.

* * *

Tsuna woke up with a pathetic wheeze and the sensation of something warm and wet on his face. Reaching up, his fingers encountered something solid and then Gokudera was murmuring, "Sorry Tenth."

"G-Gokudera-kun," Tsuna croaked and was shushed, Gokudera's voice sounding thick and choked

"I'm still cleaning the blood off," Gokudera whispered. "Please keep your eyes shut a moment longer."

"W-What happened?" Tsuna found himself asking, the damp thing returning to his forehead. There was the roughness of fabric as what he felt was a cloth dragged across skin and Gokudera remained silent for a very long time.

"Lambo is downstairs, with mama. He cried a lot. Then he apologised. The weapon he used was the ten year bazooka, technology exclusive to the Bovino family. To put it simply, when the bazooka is used, the you from ten years in the future is swapped with the you who was hit with the bazooka. The future you was handcuffed and bloody, but very cheerful, Tenth. I'm glad you don't lose that."

Tsuna took in a few steadying breaths, fingers curling in a thick material he registered as his bed covers.

"Is that all?"

"It only lasts around five minutes. When…" Gokudera took in a steadying breath and Tsuna reached up again, feeling as his fingers curled around Gokudera's damp hand and feeling as the other teen squeezed in return.

"Gokudera-kun…"

"When you returned, there was a bullet hole in your forehead. You were… _unconscious._ " Gokudera's voice briefly broke on the word. "For around twenty minutes. The wound bled a lot after the bullet removed itself."

"And Lambo?" Tsuna breathed.

"He hasn't seen, Tenth," Gokudera replied, voice quiet. "He doesn't know. The other you suggested sending him downstairs before you returned and, while I wanted to protest, I listened."

Tsuna felt relief as palpable and solid as Gokudera's hand in his, glad he hadn't subjected the young boy to any trauma.

"It wasn't as if he would have seen anyway, Gokudera-kun. Not in the conventional sense." Tsuna let go of Gokudera's hand and ignored the protests as he sat himself up, eyes slowly opening despite how gritty they felt.

"I'm sorry for subjecting you to that." Tsuna glanced up at Gokudera and then to the side, feeling his chest tighten upon seeing the bullet, gleaming metal and glistening with traces of blood, neatly positioned on the bedside locker.

"It's alright, Tenth. Better me than for you to suffer alone." Gokudera reached forward, thumbing over Tsuna's smooth forehead as if he could find any sort of proof, any sort of divot, to show that not ten minutes earlier Tsuna had had a hole in his head.

Tsuna was flustered then, unused to there being any sort of aftercare for what he went through, but settled on a heartfelt smile and a murmured, "Thank you Gokudera-kun."

If his eyes burned with unshed tears and his fingers were cold and trembling on his lap, that was his business.

Gokudera remained blissfully silent, but still reached down to gently curl his fingers around Tsuna's wrist.

* * *

When he and Gokudera got to the kitchen to see Lambo, it was to the sight of the small boy munching gleefully on the food Nana had enthusiastically set out.

Tsuna felt something close to relief at seeing how happy Lambo was, and sank down into his own chair, accepting the mug of steaming tea that his mother bustled into his hands before she returned to the stove, pots merrily bubbling.

Gokudera sat down as well, after politely declining the offer for his own cup of tea, reaching across to snatch a pastry up instead, almost out from underneath Lambo's hand. The boy, undeterred, went for the next one to continue merrily stuffing his cheeks.

Tsuna watched this with a slight smile on his face, one hand curled around his mug and the other in his pocket, where he'd stuck the bullet. As of the moment, he was rolling it between his finger and thumb.

Glancing up, he made eye contact with Gokudera who smiled pleasantly at him and, after a moment of quiet deliberation, Tsuna smiled back, feeling something in his chest loosen.

It felt like a normal day for once.

You know, aside from the incident.

* * *

" _T-Tenth!" Gokudera said, panic rife in his voice as he tried to waft the smoke away. "Tenth!_ Tsuna!"

" _Gokudera-kun," a warm, nasal voice said, sounding familiar and yet so different. "I'm fine."_

 _As the smoke cleared, Gokudera could only stare at the man in front of him, hands bound behind his back, eye dark and swollen shut, blood trailing from his nose and the sluggishly bleeding hole of a gunshot wound in his stomach._

 _Lambo shrieked, tumbling away from the bedraggled man, eyes wide with horror and Tsuna's face – for who else could it be? – softened._

" _Gokudera-kun. Could you take Lambo downstairs? He's a bit young for a mess as big as this."_

 _Gokudera swallowed several times, abortively, before he scooped the wailing child up, ran downstairs, and shoved him into Nana's arms with only a garbled apology, before he was hurtling back into the bedroom._

" _Thank you," Tsuna said, still smiling despite the wan complexion his face had, pasty and pale and sick looking._

" _W-What?" Gokudera stammered and Tsuna creaked to his feet, stumbling over in order to perch on the edge of the bed._

 _The wound still steadily bled and Gokudera couldn't quite look away from it, not until Tsuna began to talk._

" _I'm okay, Gokudera-kun. I just didn't want Lambo here for when the time ran out."_

" _I-Is this the Bovino family – " Gokudera began, unable to form the words properly without stumbling over them._

" _The Ten Year Bazooka. I'll be sent home in, oh, approximately three minutes or so." Tsuna was still smiling and Gokudera wanted to tear out his hair or scream that the brunet had become so heart achingly familiar with certain death, making no move to stop the bleeding or get comfortable or_ anything.

" _Then why did you send Lambo away?"_

" _I sent the other me to a precarious situation. And, if Lambo saw now…I don't think he'd forget, Gokudera-kun. And I want to keep Lambo safe for as long as I possibly can."_

" _W-Why – " Gokudera began, hand waving uselessly._

" _Because he's_ young _Gokudera-kun. Barely a child. He shouldn't have to suffer the loss of a close person, not for a long time yet. He knows by my time of course, but now…" Tsuna shrugged a shoulder, handcuffs merrily jingling in contrast to the grim situation. "At five years old, to see a death now could shape his future. And I don't want to break what should never be broken."_

" _Of course," Gokudera found himself whispering, trying to envision what death would look like to a child. But, before he could ask the next question, could begin to enquire about how_ Tsuna _was, still smiling happily over the years, there was another poof of smoke and Gokudera found himself lurching forward to catch the body that replaced the man._

 _Tsuna's head lolled over to his collarbone, and Gokudera tried not to be sick as blood trickled down his skin and stuck to his shirt, arms trembling with exertion and emotion._

 _Quietly, he settled Tsuna on the bed, brushing blood matted bangs away from his forehead to expose the bullet hole, and was too lost in his thoughts to notice the scampering of feet hurrying away from the now open bedroom door._

* * *

Once again unbeta'd!

Chapter six for all of you waiting for it!

Hope it lived up to standards.

Looking at it now, I don't think it's really going in a concrete set of direction. It's more of a series of drabbles in chronological order? That's what it seems like to me, anyway.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven – A Solid Conviction 

Tsuna felt something similar to dread curl in his stomach when he woke up that morning, surprisingly peacefully, just to see Reborn perched on the end of his bed, tiny fingers rolling something metal and shiny back and forth.

A glance to the bedside locker showed the small box open, contents undisturbed aside from the fact where there had once been a bullet, there was now an empty space.

"I'm not sure how I should feel about you keeping secrets, dame-Tsuna," Reborn said, the words falling heavily on Tsuna's ears and Tsuna could do no more than swallow apprehensively, wondering if this was the morning that Reborn would confront him, would _know_.

But the tiny hitman flicked the bullet with inhuman precision, the metal clattering back into the small box it had come from and, by the time Tsuna had finished tracking its descent with his eyes, Reborn was sat on the edge of the mattress closer to his face, barely a foot away.

"R-Reborn," Tsuna began, forcing himself to lick his lips, voice catching in his throat and making the word pathetically weak.

"When were you going to tell me about Lambo?"

All of Tsuna's carefully thought out words, readied apologies, rising panic, were all washed away under the uttered question and there was nothing he could do to stop the wretched sob from ripping free of his chest, his hand rising to lift over his mouth as everything dissipated at once.

Reborn's considering expression turned thoughtful, nearly stern before his small little eyes glittered malevolently and the hum of energy that constituted a shift of little Leon sounded.

"Its seven thirty am, dame-Tsuna," Reborn purred, his little hands curling around the handle of the mallet Tsuna had witnessed appear. "Looks like you need some motivation."

Tsuna didn't know what to make of the fact that Reborn was very clearly giving him an out.

It didn't take him very much longer to find himself in the kitchen, nursing a tender ache on his back and dressed in his uniform, one hand curled in the pocket of his uniform trousers, fingers pressed to the bullet like the night before.

Easing himself into a seat, Tsuna bade his morning greetings to Yamamoto, Gokudera, Lambo and – warily – Hibari, wondering when his life had gotten so lively and finding himself enjoying it.

And, despite the fact he couldn't see him, he could feel Reborn's eyes tracing his every movement like a scratching sensation in his skull and, faintly, his fingertips burned.

* * *

Very, very rapidly, the action of rubbing the burnished metal in his pocket had become a nervous tick. So much, in fact, that they unlikely group of four – Hibari several metres ahead in order to seem aloof – had only been walking for around two minutes before Yamamoto was asking, "What you got in your pocket, Tsuna?"

Tsuna determined several answers he could give, ranging from the truth to carefully constructed lies. He glanced up to Gokudera, on his right, and watched as the teen's mouth pulled down, as if he knew what Tsuna was considering

"If I'm going to tell you," Tsuna began quietly, thumb pressing into the dent the metal had sustained upon being fired and meeting Tsuna's skull. Softly, Tsuna continued, "Then I'd rather we stopped walking."

Hibari, several steps ahead, came to a halt, turning on his heel with impressive accuracy and speed, eyes dark and unreadable as he considered Tsuna.

"Tsuna?" Yamamoto asked quietly.

Tsuna curled his fingers around the bullet and pulled his hand from his pocket. The projectile felt heavy in his palm and the knowledge of it weighted down his shoulders. He almost chickened out, breath catching in his throat.

"There was an incident yesterday." Tsuna glanced nervously to Gokudera, who reached to press his knuckles gently to Tsuna's shoulder blade in a show of companionship.

Neither Yamamoto nor Hibari missed this.

Tsuna took in a steadying breath and uncurled his fingers, hand opening like a slowly blooming flower.

"I was shot. And before you ask _how_ , I don't know how to explain it. But this was the bullet." And, unable to help himself, Tsuna bent his thumb back in to roll the gleaming metal back and forth over the soft skin of his fingers.

"Tsuna." Yamamoto looked and sounded hurt, and Tsuna knew he had really overstepped his boundaries as a friend. No doubt Yamamoto was wondering why Gokudera seemed privy to more information when Yamamoto and Tsuna had known each other for far longer.

"I…It's complicated, Yamamoto," Tsuna whispered, hating the word even as he spoke it and he clenched his hand around the bullet, feeling the warmth of prolonged contact in it, even as it's uneven edges bit into his palm.

Gokudera looked as if he was sucking on a sour lemon and Hibari was staring at Tsuna's closed hand, his glare burning as though he could see the bullet hidden behind pale fingers.

"Perhaps," Gokudera said, voice barely audible. "If they became part of the Family."

" _Gokudera-kun,"_ Tsuna said, aghast, but then Yamamoto was nodding firmly, face set and serious.

Before Tsuna could say more, or before Gokudera could explain any further, Hibari was interrupting with cutting words and a harsh countenance, "I do not tolerate tardiness. If you're late to class, I will bite you to death."

"After school," Tsuna said quietly, resolutely. "After school, we'll talk to Reborn. And then, we might be able to tell you."

He reared back when Hibari leaned close into his space, staring down at him from his superior height.

"No. You _will_ tell us," Hibari's tone of voice brokered no argument, his hand shooting down to enclose Tsuna's wrist, squeezing hard enough for Tsuna's fingers to slacken in pain, the bullet falling down into Hibari's free hand.

"This is poisonous. Keeping it will prolong the pain."

"H-Hibari – " Tsuna began, but then the senior was walking away rapidly, coat flaring almost dramatically behind him.

"It's not really that healthy to dwell on it," Yamamoto agreed quietly and, when Tsuna's fingers uselessly twitched in a mockery of wanting to close around the solid lump of metal that was no longer there, the other teen reached out to scoop up Tsuna's hand and squeeze gently.

"We're here, Tsuna." Yamamoto smiled then, but it still looked forced and made Tsuna's chest ache. "If you want to do something, talk to us, huh?"

"I don't mean to keep quiet about it I just…There's never been anyone _there,"_ Tsuna was mortified when his voice broke, and the look on Yamamoto's face turned from lost to resolute and then Yamamoto scooped Tsuna into a tight hug, nearly dragging Tsuna off of the floor.

"We are _here_ , Tsuna," Yamamoto repeated fiercely. "And it will _never_ be like that again, not so long as I can help it."

Tsuna had to bite his tongue to distract himself from the burning in his eyes and the sob crawling up his throat as he reached around to desperately clutch at the back of Yamamoto's shirt.

After a heartfelt moment in which he tried his best not to cry, Gokudera's hand pressed comfortingly to the back of his shoulder before his friend was saying, regret in his voice, "W-We have to go, tenth. Hibari seems pretty intense to people who are late."

"Y-Yeah," Tsuna stuttered, voice thick as he pulled away from an equally reluctant Yamamoto, the taller teen's eyes bright with unshed tears.

Then, surprising all three of them, Tsuna whirled around to hold just as desperately onto Gokudera, hiding his face briefly in a warm shoulder as he tried to regain his composure.

And, despite the ramifications of arriving late, the two of them just watched in companionable silence as the third member of their group began to tremble and cry.

* * *

By the time lunch had rolled around, Yamamoto was hurrying away with a quick apology and a stilted explanation of prior obligations with his club.

Along with his words he firmly said, "I'll be back soon, so you could wait here?"

Gokudera had left not moments before. With his abrupt transferral to the middle school, he needed to review with the teachers regarding his current stage of education and learning.

He said words of similar effect to Tsuna, and even made it a point to leave his bag by his desk to allude to the fact he'd be returning.

Tsuna shooed them away, a warm feeling blooming in his chest and settling like a balloon behind his sternum and making him feel light and happy.

He was just rummaging around for his lunch box when there was a clatter against the window next to him, and he glanced over just to see a scene reminiscent of the day earlier.

Being one of only a few in the classroom, and the closest to the window, nobody else noticed as Tsuna hurriedly opened the window and rescued Lambo from his precarious perch just outside of the room.

"Lambo," Tsuna hissed, placing his bag strategically on his desk and scooting his chair back in order to settle the small child on his lap. "What are you doing here?"

Lambo stared at him almost solemnly, wide eyes blinking slowly and almost lackadaisically before he reached tiny, slightly sticky fingers, to press his palm against Tsuna's forehead.

"It's gone," Lambo mumbled, hand pressed almost unerringly on the same spot Tsuna knew from Gokudera's quiet explanation the bullet hole had sat.

"Lambo," Tsuna whispered in return, horror creeping up his throat and almost closing his airways. "D-Did you see something yesterday?"

"Father once said that when a person dies, they're gone for good," Lambo said slowly, sounding out the words in a high pitched, childish tone at odds with his sentence. "That they've gone to heaven and we will celebrate their life even as we mourn their loss."

Tsuna didn't know what to say, heart thumping almost painfully in his chest as his mind chanted a litany of, _no, no, no, not Lambo, please, not a child, don't let him care, don't let him know, I don't care about anything else but please, not Lambo._

"Idiot-Gokudera," and here Tsuna tried not to snort at the out of place name in such a serious moment, "Idiot-Gokudera, he was with you. And he didn't mourn. And you're not gone."

"I have a very special gift, Lambo," Tsuna said quietly, moving one trembling hand to rest in Lambo's curly hair and resisting the urge to call it a curse.

 _Mafia family,_ something in his brain whispered. _He's five, but from a mafia family. What does he know of death? What should I tell him? What should he learn?_

Lambo looked up at him, expression unguarded and filled with something Tsuna identified as wonder. The emotion made something twist uncomfortably in his gut.

"When I get very, very badly hurt, I sometimes go to sleep. And, when I wake up, the pain and sore bits are gone."

"Like a magic power," Lambo chirped, seeming cheerier than his earlier words as understanding lit up his eyes.

"Like a magic power," Tsuna confirmed in a choked off voice, reaching a hand to scrub at his throat. "But you need to keep it a secret for me. Can you do that?"

Lambo sniffed haughtily, head lifting higher and Tsuna felt his hand in Lambo's hair brush something firm, which he then identified as a small horn, an accessory of sorts.

"Of course I can," Lambo then declared, chest puffed out in pride at being given a secret to keep. "B-But why didn't you want me to see before?"

 _What does a five year old know of death,_ a voice filled with trepidation murmured at the back of his mind. _What little does he know, and what will you show him? WIll it hurt him when he learns the truth?_

Tsuna moved then, to wrap his arms around the confused boy, holding him in as gentle yet as firm a hug he could.

"Because you're now a very important person to me, Lambo. And I don't want you to see me at my worst."

Tiny hands curled in the collar of his shirt, one trailing away to grasp at his hair. Around them, the students had begun to whisper as they realised that there was, indeed, a five year old in the classroom with them.

Tsuna drowned out their words, felt Lambo's fast little heartbeat under the palm pressed to the young boy's back and wished, fervently, that Lambo never saw, for all that he was able.

So long as he could keep him innocent, he would.

 _The day I let a child know pain like that, is a day I never wish to see._

* * *

I think this may be the shortest chapter yet but oh well.

Hopefully it was to standards and not too many glaring mistakes.

I was thinking the next chapter might be a little interlude chapter. Well, we'll see!


	9. Interlude - TYL: Tsuna, Yamamoto, Reborn

Interlude – Ten Years Later: Tsuna, Yamamoto, Reborn

It was hard to find the good in a situation where you were bleeding out onto an expensive rug and your face was pressed into the equally as expensive carpet, but Tsuna still found it in himself to smile, expression hidden from the other occupants of the opulent room.

The edges of his vision were flickering black and white, and even breathing in hurt. But he'd gotten what he wanted, the man above him still theatrically waving hands and gun alike, expounding about his great plans.

From his right hand side, Tsuna heard Yamamoto snort derisively, and then give a grunt of pain when a solid sound of impact echoed over the spoken words.

Tsuna took in another deep breath and his stomach burned.

Fingers curled in his hair, deceptively gentle, before they tightened, harshened, and his head was dragged from the floor so he could make eye contact with the impudent brat above him.

True, he himself was still in his early twenties, the man opposite him older, but Tsuna was aged beyond his years, wise beyond the experience he had, and the hopeful idiot in him still had far to go before he understood the intricacies of a world in the mafia.

But, because he could, and because Reborn wasn't around to scold him for it, Tsuna gathered a mouthful of spit and blood and left a red streaked glob of phlegm on his captor's face.

Being pistol whipped in the face lost its lustre after at least the seventeenth time, Tsuna's mouth filling with blood again that he dribbled to the floor. There was a trail of it at the corner of his mouth but with his hands handcuffed behind his back, he couldn't do anything about it.

Yamamoto had gone very carefully quiet on his side of the room and Tsuna heard the man holding the Rain guardian down mutter nervously in Italian to his comrade, the one who had kicked Yamamoto. After all, a quiet Yamamoto could be a very scary Yamamoto.

Despite experience, despite knowing death intimately and crawling into her embrace unwillingly time after time (and a few times willingly, injuries too great for him to comprehend, when he sobbed in pain and suffered and couldn't help but want for it to end, or as a scapegoat for his closest companions), his friends, guardians, loved ones – they never enjoyed watching him get hurt.

Mukuro had once said, voice full of wonderment, that it was a beautiful sight to watch as Tsuna clawed himself back from the cold fingers and hands of a death that refused to cling on to him.

Gokudera, in rebuttal, had said how painful it was to watch as a man who should stand tall and proud and unafraid was knocked down again and again and had to suffer for it.

Mukuro had fallen silent, still looking contemplative and a little recalcitrant but he had not complained or argued. It was easy to tell that Gokudera's words had hit home, however – how could Mukuro see, after all, if he hadn't have cared?

But that was neither here nor there, and Tsuna felt his head get dragged up again, neck bending at an unnatural angle. Unbidden, his hands fisted, nails biting into his palms as he tried to ignore the indignity he felt at being treated like livestock.

The cold metal of a gun barrel pressed into his temple, biting into his skin and eerily familiar.

Tsuna would not give this man the luxury of closing his eyes and accepting his fate. He met the sneer head on, eyes narrow and defiant to the end because it _wasn't_ the end.

The tug on his very being, pulling his skin taut, his wounds wide, was unwelcome, unneeded, and the first stirrings of horror stretched out in his stomach and rooted itself.

Less than a heartbeat later he was dropped into a familiar bedroom and the high pitched screaming of a child began.

By the time he left, he didn't have the chance to warn Gokudera that the door was opening, that someone was going to _see_.

* * *

When he came back he landed on his knees again, sinking into the plush carpet and staring at the stains of fresh blood on the carpet, the memory of waking up from a gunshot wound at the tender age of fourteen creeping its way into his mind.

The wound in his stomach ached, sluggishly bleeding still, and it took Tsuna a few moments to look up from the scarlet in front of him, to the body opposite him.

Yamamoto, sat cross legged no more than a few feet away, was painstakingly cleaning the blood from his sword, red splattered across his cheek and his suit only a little rumpled from his time spent on the floor.

There was a click from behind Tsuna, black falling into his vision accompanied by the acrid scent of smoke, and his suddenly sore, tired eyes drifted over to Reborn, who had just undone his handcuffs, lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Easing himself back slowly, Tsuna rubbed at his wrists and moved to sit with his back against the closest piece of furniture, a dark wood desk.

When as comfortable as he was going to be, Tsuna drifted a hand down his front to delicately press against the hole in his abdomen and wondered how long it would be until he died.

Reborn settled down next to him in a crouch, a critical eye running over the body of the dead man that had killed a Tsuna who was only fourteen years old and asked, voice low, "Yamamoto?"

Yamamoto glanced up from the gleaming metal of his favoured metal, eyes hard and cold and unforgiving.

"I wasn't kind," he said mildly, tone of voice at odds with the look on his face. "After all, he wasn't kind to Tsuna, neither here or then."

Reborn grunted, seemingly satisfied, and blew out a cloud of smoke.

"How long?" he then asked, eyes flittering over to Tsuna.

"You should know, Reborn, that gut wounds bleed the slowest, take the longest, and hurt the most. It will be a short while yet; it was just a bullet after all."

Although Reborn didn't flinch, the twitch of a muscle in his jaw was more than enough. When the memory had been given to him, when he'd earned his place, the first he'd seen was the test he'd devised killing a fourteen year old boy painfully.

The reminder, while unwarranted, wasn't unwelcome. It helped him strive to do better, after all.

"Is it worth getting it cleaned and patched up instead of letting it run its course?" Reborn queried then, and when Tsuna reached out for his cigarette, it only took a moment of deliberation before he handed it over.

"It would be better," Tsuna said slowly, blowing out a wobbly ring of smoke before he passed the cigarette back. "It would be better if one of you ended it now."

Reborn gave a sharp intake of breath, nearly crushing the cigarette between his fingers, Yamamoto flinching more noticeably with a screech and clang of metal.

"Tsuna – "

"If you don't, I will." Tsuna kept his voice sharp, harsh, like a punishing whip and gestured wildly towards the discarded pistol of a dead man. "Better to go now than to suffer. Besides," he added, voice going softer as he lifted a wrist to rub at his mouth. "It is better to know I'll wake to someone there than to no one at all."

"I sometimes forget you're no longer an innocent fourteen year old," Reborn muttered, hand lowering to finger at the harness that held his own gun.

"I was never a child, Reborn. I wasn't given the chance. One more on the tally won't change anything."

"It doesn't mean we want to kill you."

"Is it death if I don't stay dead?"

"It's death all the same!" Reborn snapped, uncharacteristically angry, before he sighed, stubbed out his cigarette on the carpet and scraped a hand through his hair.

"It may be hard for you, Tsuna," Yamamoto interrupted, sword returned to its resting place as he focused on picking blood out from his fingernails, face carefully averted so Tsuna couldn't get a read on his emotions. "But that doesn't mean it's easy to us."

"Ten years of the same, and still no one thinks to change their opinion." Tsuna sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and feeling his composure waver, his vision swimming.

Graciously, Reborn didn't shove him off when he sagged into the hitman's shoulder.

"I either suffer now, suffer through hospital, with no guarantee I'll even survive, or to end it now and have it done with," Tsuna said pragmatically. "And the sooner I'm awake, the sooner we can deal with the problem that led to this in the first place."

"Just because it's a good idea, it doesn't mean we have to like it when you're right," Reborn muttered childishly, hand closing around the pistol. "But if that's the case, then if you'd give me the honours..."

Reborn pulled the gun free and made a show of checking the chamber and safety, clicking the latch free with a flick of his thumb. His free hand reached down to curl around Tsuna's, bigger now than before when it was small and unknowing.

Tsuna looked at him with a calm acceptance that set Reborn's teeth on edge, no matter how often he'd seen this, made him want to scream despite the countless times before.

He lifted the pistol, watched as Tsuna closed his eyes with an expression Reborn couldn't read, and squeezed Tsuna's hand the same time as he squeezed the trigger.

It was never easy to see or to witness, to be a part of him. But, in the end, it was highly gratifying to watch as delicate lashes fluttered open, to watch as wounds closed and left no mark aside from blood and dirt and it always settled the hurt in Reborn's chest to murmur, "Welcome back," when Tsuna was cognizant enough to smile and reply,

" _Thank you."_

* * *

I wrote this literally just now, in about forty minutes of unbridled inspiration.

So please excuse any mistakes, grammar, spelling or otherwise, and I hope you enjoy this interlude!

I was thinking of the content this has, that maybe I should give a trigger warning? I mean there's alludes to (impermanent) suicide…


	10. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight - Confrontation

Tsuna woke up with a muted gasp, the noise muffled in his pillow. His eyes were sore and sticky and wet and, for a long delirious moment, he wondered if it was blood.

It took him several more moments to realise there were tiny fingers combing through his hair and he blearily reached out for the bedside lamp.

The room was thrown into brightness and Tsuna winced at the throbbing ache in his temples, squinting away from the source of light and up into Reborn's dark, thoughtful eyes.

"I think," the tiny hitman said, hand removing itself from Tsuna's unruly hair. "I think we need to have a talk."

Tsuna slowly sat up, resting his back against the headboard and drawing his gaze away from Reborn to the weight his side, feeling the corner of his mouth curve in a soft smile at seeing a slumbering Lambo tucked up against his side.

"Is this because I told Yamamoto and Hibari?" Tsuna asked, voice rough before he quietly cleared his throat and glanced back towards the bedside table, his alarm clock throwing the numbers 'three-forty two' in stark relief, red and blinking. "Does it have to be now? Besides, I thought you'd be glad I'm 'adding to the Family'."

His eyes were puffy and his cheek hurt, as if he'd been biting himself in his sleep.

Tsuna felt a little grim as he wondered when he'd subconsciously gained a silence keeping tactic.

"Since I first arrived here, you've been keeping something quiet; something that Yamamoto, Gokudera, Hibari and your mother seem privy too." Reborn's contemplative eyes crossed over to the sleeping Lambo. "Even Lambo, from how things have gone. I want to know why you're keeping it from me."

Tsuna was very suddenly wide awake, feeling his mind run over the possibilities of how this could turn out and he dragged a palm over his face. Reborn's fingers abruptly pinched his wrist and he dropped his hand with a wince of pain.

"Don't," Reborn said, suddenly soft. "You don't get to act so old."

"I can't die," Tsuna replied, voice void and blunt as he threw it out there, staring down at Reborn and trying not to be unnerved by the deadpan stare he was given in return.

"I expect a serious answer, Tsuna."

"I gave you one," Tsuna said insistently, almost raising his voice. Both of them fell silent when Lambo grumbled and shuffled before rolling closer to the wall, body curled up tight and vulnerable. Tsuna watched him wistfully before his attention was drawn back to Reborn.

"That's an impossibility," Reborn retorted, giving nothing away to show what he could be thinking even as his eyes glittered thoughtfully. His hand twitched in an abortive movement, a reach for the chain dangling around his neck.

"The day in the gym, Reborn. What happened? When I fought Mochida-senpai, what happened?"

Reborn's jaw ticked, a muscle jumping erratically as his gaze drifted to the side and Tsuna watched as his brow furrowed in deep contemplation.

"You asked me that before."

"I did."

"And what was my answer then?"

"The light fell. Everyone dispersed. You disciplined me for absconding in the face of challenge." Tsuna waited patiently, eyes keen and knowing, knowing that at any minute now Reborn would start to drift away, would have his memories of the event muddled and snatched away.

The silence dragged for a very long moment and Tsuna sighed in acceptance, hand reaching towards the bedside lamp.

Reborn's tiny hand shot out, snatching at Tsuna, his little fingers wrapping around only two of Tsuna's own.

" _No,"_ The hitman hissed, unable to quite keep the horror out of his voice, eyes flickering back and forth as if he was seeing something Tsuna couldn't.

"No, no, no," Reborn reiterated. "No. No, you didn't run. Neither did Yamamoto."

"Reborn?" Tsuna asked, voice high and reedy when he couldn't decide whether or not he should be worried, concerned, or hopeful.

"You didn't run." The faint alarm was still there in Reborn's tone, his eyes lifting to Tsuna's face, eyes bright with something Tsuna couldn't quite understand.

"Reborn," Tsuna repeated, feeling a tremble shiver down his spine. "Reborn, have you _seen?"_

"How could I have thought you had ran? You were right there – _you moved him out of the way!"_

"He would have died," Tsuna replied, keeping his voice measured even as the nerves prickled at his skin.

"And instead it was you." Reborn's tone was blunt, final. His grip had tightened on Tsuna's hand, cutting the circulation off to the tips of Tsuna's index and middle finger.

In the quiet that followed, Lambo snuffled into the pillows and declared that all of the grape candy in the world was now his, nobody else's, _'keep your hands off my candy Gokudera.'_

"I can't die, Reborn," Tsuna finally said into the heavy silence and, this time, Reborn didn't stop him as he scraped a palm over his head and down his face.

"The others?"

"Yamamoto learned the day of the gym incident. Mother has always known." Tsuna swallowed the bitterness he felt at knowing he'd let his mother suffer for years with the knowledge of his unfortunate experiences.

"Hibari was next," Tsuna continued, and it felt a little cathartic to explain to someone after all this time. "I don't know when he started to see, but it was after an accident in school. Then it was Gokudera, when – "

"The bench." Reborn's flat interruption made Tsuna flinch and he tried to pull his hand free of the bone creaking grip Reborn had on his hand.

"The bench," Tsuna whispered in return, reaching his free hand to rest over Reborn's carefully. "Reborn, you're hurting me."

"And Lambo?" Reborn's voice remained sharp as his fingers eased slightly. His eyes were downcast, narrowed as if in thought. For all Tsuna could see, it might as well have been anger.

"There was an incident with the…the bazooka he has. I came back with a bullet wound. I offered him food." Tsuna felt himself loosen a little, a soft sensation in his chest. "It endeared him rather easily to me I suppose." His eyes slipped to the side so he could gaze fondly at Lambo. "He doesn't fully understand though. I don't want to do that to him."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do you think I didn't try?" Tsuna tried to keep the nastiness out of his reply but at the way Reborn very subtly jerked, dark eyes lifting briefly to make eye contact, he realised he'd been harsher than he intended.

"You did," Reborn agreed almost mildly and said no more.

"T-There's a system," he had to clear his throat to swallow the lump that had formed, but Tsuna continued regardless. "There's a system. I – we – don't understand it completely, but, if you care just the slightest amount for me, it lets you see."

"Are you suggesting I didn't care about you from the start?"

"When you introduced yourself you addressed me as a mission you'd take on 'whole heartedly'."

Reborn's mouth shut with a sharp click and his free hand curled into a loose fist.

"And then something changed," he murmured, voice low. Almost unbidden, his hand lifted to cradle the pacifier, thoughts churning angrily in his mind like a storm.

"Just now," Tsuna agreed, and scrubbed a hand against his eye.

"You cry a lot, in your sleep," Reborn mused quietly. "At first I wondered what could have disturbed a child enough for that to happen. Bullies at school? A word here and there didn't seem enough for the bone deep weariness you seemed to carry. Not enough for the weight you carried on your shoulders."

Tsuna stayed quiet, so as to not disturb Reborn who was deeply contemplating something.

"The day of Gokudera, you came back with the weight of the world on your back and a look on your face that looked as if you were told to take on a burden too large. You cried that night, the following night, the night after that. I couldn't understand what was wrong – you went to school, you made friends. You're to be a mafia boss yes, but not now, not when you're fourteen and I couldn't _understand_ why your eyes looked as if you were already ten years older."

Tsuna stared down at their hands, Reborn still tightly holding on.

"I looked at all of the logical routes. What could have gone wrong, what _was_ going wrong, the bigger picture, the smaller picture. Every conceivable angle. Tonight, it reached a peak. I couldn't find _anything._ I wanted you to stop looking so haggard, stop looking as if you were ready to be sent to the gallows for a crime you didn't commit and had accepted your fate all the same and, instead…it was this."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I looked at you like a target and not as a person," Reborn barked in return and fell quiet when Lambo rolled around again, tiny hands reaching to grab onto the hem of Tsuna's shirt, his small face buried into Tsuna's hip.

"It wasn't your fault, Reborn. This," Tsuna gestured down towards himself with his free hand before dropping that hand briefly into Lambo's curly hair, needing the comfort, "has gone on for longer than I've known you. It wasn't your fault the issue began, it wasn't your fault the other times I might have stepped into the road at the wrong time or slipped and injured myself past the point of no return. It wasn't your fault you couldn't _see_ , because you didn't know what it would entail."

Reborn's mouth pursed tightly, lips white as they pressed into a grim line, but Tsuna mentally awarded himself a point as he realised he had won this argument.

"Have any been caused by me?" Reborn finally asked, fingers loosening from Tsuna's so he could fold his hands on his lap.

Tsuna caught a glimpse at the clock again, 'four-twelve' blinking merrily, and looked towards his own knees.

"Directly? No. Indirectly…that test devised between Gokudera and myself. The bench." Unable to help himself, even after the short elapsed time since the incident, Tsuna's hand darted to press against his stomach.

Reborn's eyes followed the movement keenly.

"You should sleep," the hitman said shortly, easing himself off of the bed and onto the floor, staring up at Tsuna even from his reduced height now they weren't nearly eye to eye. "It's late – or early, depending on your perspective – and you have school in the morning."

"Did you not want to talk more?" Tsuna asked, feeling wary that no more questions had been asked than already had.

"I know what I need to for now, Tsuna. And I know what I need to do as well. Go to sleep."

Tsuna watched him before he reached out for the bedside lamp again, flicking it off to a resounding 'click' and settling back down into the bed again, head on the pillow and mind racing.

Lambo yawned pathetically from next to him and drooled onto his nightshirt.

Tsuna closed his eyes and, for the first time in a long time, dreamt of better things.

* * *

"I want a list," Reborn said first thing when Tsuna opened his eyes to a heavy weight on his chest.

"W-What?" Tsuna croaked, hearing as Lambo cackled gleefully from somewhere downstairs, his mother's voice carrying softly up the stairs, an amused lilt to her words.

"I want a list of how you've died and how old."

Tsuna worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, sitting up as Reborn moved away.

"W-Written?"

"Dictated. Now. If you would," Reborn tacked on at the end, as if he was forcing himself to be polite. Tsuna felt a little glad that he hadn't changed an overt amount after the revelation.

"Do I have time?"

"We have half an hour."

Tsuna rubbed at his eyes and gave a broken yawn, the noise catching in his throat.

"From since you've been here?"

"From the beginning."

Tsuna took a few minutes to gather his bearings, hands clasped loosely together on his lap when he swung his legs out of the bed, resting the balls of his feet on the floor, his heels lifted from the ground.

"The earliest I can remember was at eleven," Tsuna began. "Car accident. Bounced off the fender. Instant, from what I can recall. All I really can remember of it is waking up."

Reborn remained silent, sat beside him and an attentive listener. When all he did was nod encouragingly, face blank but eyes understanding, Tsuna felt the dam break at realising he could tell someone – someone who might understand better than a bunch of teenagers ever could.

 _You could never tell them anyway, for hurting them more than you already have,_ the nasty voice in his head said. Tsuna ignored it, shoulders tightening as he began to list the rest of his experiences.

"Twelve years old, fell out the window. Broken neck. Twelve years old, hit by a lorry. Twelve years old, impact with the road headfirst, there were nails. Twelve years old, fell out of a tree, broken spine." His voice caught, his breathing shuddering as the emotion welled but he couldn't stop the flow of words. "Thirteen, fell, fractured skull I guess was what got me? Drowned once, and washed out onto the river bank."

"Drowned?" Reborn's voice was soft, so, _so_ patient that the sob ripped its way out of Tsuna's chest and he hunched over.

"T-There was a d-dog in the water. Little girl, little dog. I-I couldn't bear t-to see her cry."

"You're doing well, Tsuna," Reborn praised in return, his little hand settling on Tsuna's back so comfortingly that the tears fell heavier.

"Fourteen," Tsuna whispered, voice ragged. "Fourteen, gym light. Stairs, broken neck. That godforsaken _bench._ And, t-then, two days ago, b-bullet wound."

"In less than four years of life, you've gone through this phenomenon around eleven times," Reborn mused, and Tsuna wondered if it was his imagination that the hand on his back felt heavier now.

"How much of these do the others know?"

"Hibari knows the lorry accident, the road accident, the spine incident," Tsuna rushed the words, feeling another hiccup threatening to escape his throat. "The fall at school, the gym light, the stairs and broken neck, the bench and the bullet wound. Eight. Yamamoto knows about the school fall, gym light, broken neck, bench, bullet wound." Tsuna had to pause here, to take in a heavy breath, the sharp inhale causing him to hitch a breath and for Reborn to make a low noise Tsuna hysterically registered as soothing.

"Gokudera knows about the bench and the bullet wound and Lambo only knows the slightest bit about the bullet wound."

"And you don't know why it happens?"

Tsuna mutely shook his head.

"And eleven is the earliest. So, something happened before that for this to come about." Reborn's hand gently pat his back and then fell against him for a second time, firm enough for Tsuna to stumble forwards onto his feet and off of the bed.

"Go to school." Reborn ran a critical eye over him and Tsuna realised he was gently trembling and amended, "If you feel up to it, don't push yourself. Try to not overwork yourself about what happened. I'll have a look into this myself. And Tsuna?"

Tsuna lifted watery eyes from where he'd been staring at his bare toes, flexing them against the carpet.

"For so long as I can help it, you are _not_ going to suffer through something like this again."

Tsuna felt a little quirk at the corner of his mouth, and was rewarded by Reborn inclining his head in response. Then, with a quick glance at the clock, Tsuna decided he had time for a shower before his friends arrived so he could wash the grief from his face and shoulders.

Knowing that Reborn knew now was like a lifted weight, and he could carry himself a little taller.

* * *

What's this? Another update?

Well, Reborn knows now! Hope the revelation was as good as what people were expecting!

Let me know what you think! And also let me know if I've made any glaring errors (this is still unbeta'd!)


	11. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine – Sometimes gentle, sometimes not

Tsuna remembered drowning with a clarity he had long wished would fade away.

The current had been strong, the water cold and unforgivable and, huddled on the bank and crying was a girl less than half his age.

In the wildly churning water of the Namimori river, leash caught between two rocks and just shy of strangling the poor beast, was a small dog.

It doesn't take long to put one and two together. Tsuna had been raised by a selfless mother and felt he was almost as selfless himself.

The sky above was overcast and grey, the wind biting and chilling. The threat of rain hovered on the horizon, bringing with it the promise of winter in the iciness of fallen water.

The river, while nearly chest deep on him and of a coldness that took his breath away, would have swamped the young girl had she tried herself. The hem of her dress was already wet from the spray and she was already shivering.

Tsuna remembered that day, when his fingers turned pink, then purple, then white with the cold of the water, trembling as he fiddled with the collar wrapped snug around the water matted fur of the dog.

He remembered cradling the dog to his chest, the animal panting and whimpering and shivering as it weighed him down. It had been easier to untangle the leash without weight attached to it the collar wrapped around the forearm not holding an animal.

He recalled how he had braced his free hand on the lifted, artificial river bank, the water sloshing angrily at the concrete. How he had placed the dog carefully onto solid ground.

How the loose rocks and silt shifted treacherously underfoot when he made to haul himself out of the water and he slipped back, gasping in shock as the cold water washed over his shoulders.

Another shaky footstep underwater and his foot wedged into a gap, twisting painfully enough for him to buckle a knee and get a mouthful of mulchy water, the girl holding desperately onto her pet as she screamed again, less for help for her dog and more for help for Tsuna.

The concrete was slippery under his palm as made another desperate bid to pull himself out of the icy grasp of the river and the water caught him under the armpits, throwing him off balance as he was forced several feet down the river.

His left foot found purchase when he flailed to a stop, fingernails torn and bleeding as he scrambled at the concrete.

His right foot, sore and almost certainly sprained, slipped into the part of the river that was deeper than the rest and Tsuna lost control of the situation with deep set sensation of horror as he was washed away with the current and fought to keep his head above the dark water.

There was a leaf stuck to his face.

The river took a sharp bend that he was dragged with, back impacting with a rock and, as the breath whooshed out of him, he inhaled at the right enough time to get a lungful of brackish river water and then he was choking and scrambling at his throat, his eyes burning as oxygen eluded him.

His feet kicked wildly, desperate to make contact with the river bed, to propel himself higher.

His head bobbed over the surface long enough for him to suck in a brief breath, coughing harshly. The girl was still screaming, scrambling down the riverbank after him, her tiny dog yapping and bounding after her.

Tsuna was washed under again and was abruptly jerked to a stop as something snagged his jacket. His fingers, frozen and so sore they were almost numb, immediately started clawing at the catch where he'd been caught, twisted at an angle he couldn't get his head higher.

His lungs were aching and his eyes were burning as he squinted them open to try and see what he was doing. There was a bleeding wound on his arm he'd not noticed before, the red trickling out and clouding away in the rush of water.

Everything was going cold and numb and reflexively, desperately, he tried to gasp for air, water flooding his mouth and throat and lungs.

His vision spotted black and he stopped fumbling at his jacket. He felt separated from his body, detached and no longer in control.

The water was no longer cold but a pressure he could only feel like the barest whisper.

His lungs heaved in his chest, again and again but all the action caused was for more and more water to creep in to where it didn't belong.

Tsuna blinked and saw the stars around him, floating and hovering and glittering.

When he blinked again, it was to the feel of rough earth under his cheek, the taste of vomit in his mouth and the violent upheaval of his body as more water was expelled from his stomach.

It took a long time, but when Tsuna rolled over to his back and gazed up at the sky, the sun was already beginning to crest the horizon, bathing the sky in shades of red and orange and pink as the dawn greeted the world.

Tsuna coughed violently, fetid water bubbling past his lips. The back of his mouth tasted like blood and his fingertips were blue.

Every inhale felt like a solid weight on his chest that was getting heavier and heavier.

Tsuna rolled back onto his side, curled up in a bid for warmth, and sobbed, each breath ripped from a throat that burned as fiercely as any fire.

Yes. Tsuna rather vividly remembered how it felt to drown.

That was why, when the girl dressed in several layers of padded clothing and sports equipment teetered over the edge, hit the water with a punched out scream of impact, and immediately started flailing, Tsuna only hesitated for a single second (and remembered what it felt to become one with the stars) before he was hurtling over the railing after her.

He hit the water as he heard Gokudera's startled shout above him, Yamamoto calling his name, Reborn's soft voice following him down.

It wasn't as cold this time, didn't snatch the breath from his lungs.

A hysterical, tightly packed part of his brain began to shriek in fear, his arms locking up briefly even as he closed them around the thrashing girl.

 _Get out, get out, get out, get out,_ it screamed at him, and, echoing in the back of mind he heard the gurgle of his lungs as he drowned and drowned and _drowned_ before finally tearing free of the rocks that had so cruelly ensnared him.

There was a blank space in his memory then, where he couldn't compute how he got from A to B, but suddenly he was on the riverside, swaddled in jackets and trembling as he stared at the peaceful flow of water.

The girl – Haru, his brain supplied, even as Tsuna relived what it felt and sounded like to have water rush into the space it didn't belong – was crying, curled up and shivering.

Tsuna had two jackets. Something in his throat jumped, once, twice, three times, a nervous tick.

Haru got the spare jacket, his shaking hands lifting it from his own shoulders, knuckles bone white, before he wrapped it around her.

She sobbed.

Tsuna coughed then, back arcing, shoulders hunching, and the memory of water trickling over his lips, cold and biting, haunted him.

A hand settled on the curve of his spine, a quiet voice murmuring above him.

He couldn't breathe, his lungs tightening further and further as a black wave crashed over his head and a little girl's screams followed him into oblivion.

"You're hyperventilating," said a faraway voice. "You're having a panic attack and you need to start breathing again."

Tsuna wheezed in, the noise aching and inhuman, the air rattling in his chest like a pile of loose pebbles and hurting more than it was worth.

The hand on his back fisted in the wet material of his shirt and then loosened, gently rubbing circles.

"If you don't start breathing now, you're going to pass out," that same voice warned.

A quiet part of Tsuna wanted that to happen. A much bigger part of him refused, knew the nightmares that would creep into his mind would be too much so soon after the impromptu dip in the Namimori river.

His next inhale felt less like he was breathing glass and more like he was human again.

"Good, good," the voice praised, soothing and warm.

The little girl screamed again in his mind; a dog barked.

Tsuna's exhale was a sob and he hunkered down further.

"Is he g-going to be alright, desu?" someone hiccupped from the left of him, and Tsuna lifted his suddenly heavy head to make eye contact with the girl he'd recklessly saved.

With her sodden features and wide, guileless eyes, Tsuna was briefly reminded of Lambo. The strong urge to comfort her stemmed from that.

"H-Haru, right?" Tsuna rasped and the hand rubbing circles on his back settled down.

The girl nodded sombrely, a wet curl of hair stuck to her cheek. Tsuna's fingers twitched as he fought the impulse to pull it from her skin.

"I'll be okay. Will you?"

"I – Haru will be fine," she declared after a moment's falter, eyes darting to the peaceful river. Something in her expression twitched, a flicker of fear.

Tsuna felt a responding emotion in his stomach as he looked towards the river himself, clear and calm and nothing like the day he'd drowned.

Nothing like the day where he had sank beneath the surface, where he'd gasped and struggled and then simply drifted in that hollow pocket that was neither life nor death.

His stomach twisted suddenly, violently, and rebelled.

Not a moment later, he was emptying his breakfast onto the concrete next to him and lifting a shaking hand to his mouth as his body bucked weakly as he uselessly heaved.

A water bottle was shoved into his free hand and his fingers closed around it of his own accord, tighter than necessary as water sloshed over the lip.

Tsuna drank it eagerly, guzzled it down, anything to get the taste of pungent river from his mouth, nothing more than a memory but more potent than he'd like.

Tsuna remembered drowning.

If asked, he could point at the place he'd waded in to save a dog. Could point out where he sprained his ankle, could show where the river caught him and washed him away.

It would take little prompting from there to show where he had drowned, had stared through the water at the sky passing over ahead and felt like a speck of dust when left to his thoughts and the rushing sound water – or had it been his heart pounding in his ears as he struggled for air?

A brisk walk, no more than five minutes away, he could show you the exact spot where he had woken up the dawning light of the next day, his skin as pale as paper, fingertips wrinkled and everything aching with the frigidness of his limbs.

He'd lost a shoe and somehow that had made him cry harder at the time.

When Tsuna swilled his mouth with water and spat it into the river, he looked at Haru, pale aside from blotches of colour on her cheeks and nose, her eyes puffy and her ears purpling. He looked at her and remembered what it had been like, to drown and choke and for his body to give up before he was ready.

And, as he watched her shiver and tremble, he tried to imagine what it would have been like if he hadn't of walked by when she was balancing on the railing, murmuring to herself and waving her hockey stick. If he would have heard about her on the news that evening or the next morning, of a young girl caught by the river and found dead, her corpse bloated and white and blue and her face peaceful in death.

Something bitter unfurled in his chest, because no one had been there for _his_ body. Something warmer wrapped around the bitterness, swaddled it tight and didn't let go because instead of being bitter no one mourned his death, he should be glad he prevented what could have ended a young girl's life.

Reborn sat down next to him, close enough for Tsuna to feel the brush of his jacket against his thigh.

Gokudera was tending to Haru now, talking to her in smooth, dulcet tones.

Yamamoto was a little behind him, hand still pressed to his back and thumb moving in absent, thoughtless circles.

"This isn't then," Reborn said, both pragmatic and cryptic, eyes unfathomable. Leon, perched on the rim of his hat, made the leap between the two of them and landed on Tsuna's knee with a damp thud. The lizard waited very little before it clambered up Tsuna and settled beneath the collar of his shirt, scaly, dry warmth pressed to his cold wet skin and hemmed in by his shirt.

"I know," Tsuna replied, and remembered what it felt like to give up when, for a brief moment, the world had stopped turning and he'd seen the stars.

 _Breathing water was like breathing air after all,_ Tsuna mused. It just didn't take as long before death came crawling over.

* * *

Tada! A chapter where Tsuna didn't actually die (but reminisced all the same).

Hope you enjoyed it!


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten – Sickness and Suffering

"It is not a slight against you, Gokudera, but I can't let you in," Reborn said solemnly, staring up at Gokudera from in front of Tsuna's door, small arms crossed over his small chest.

"But the Tenth – "

"Is suffering, I _know,_ but you going in there won't help him."

Gokudera grit his teeth, and barely refrained from flinching when from beyond the door, Tsuna howled in pain, the noise dissolving into heart wrenching sobs.

Down the hallway Yamamoto was restlessly pacing, holding his elbows, his skin pinched and pale and his eyes narrowed, on the precipice of looking angry.

"But we can't just leave him, Reborn," Gokudera pleaded. "Maybe we can…maybe Bianchi will have an antidote or…"

"You know as well as I do that each of Bianchi's creations is unique and that each process is different. I doubt your sister can help."

Gokudera made a high pitched whine of frustration between his teeth and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes with an angrily muttered, "Why aren't you talking to Bianchi about targeting Tsuna?"

"Do you think Tsuna would thank me for fighting his battles? This is something he has to face _by himself_ and if I were to interfere it would undermine his authority. Bianchi would hate him even more."

"God _damnit,"_ Gokudera cursed and pressed his palm to the wall leading to Tsuna's room, the other teen wailing softly.

"I just want to _help."_

"We have to let it run its course and be there for him afterwards. As of now, there is nothing we can do." Reborn watched as Gokudera scraped a restless hand through his straggly locks, his hair messed up from running his hand through it countless times before.

"Perhaps," Reborn said lightly, "You could see how Mama is. I'm sure it is more heart-wrenching and causing her more distraught to hear her son in pain than it is for you."

Gokudera started, turning his head from staring a hole into the wall as the realisation struck, and a sour expression crossed his face, one fairly close to self-loathing.

"O-Of course, that I-I didn't think that before I…"

"You're still a child. Children make mistakes. See how Mama is. Maybe bring a pitcher of water up, Tsuna will be most likely dehydrated by the end of this ordeal."

Gokudera nodded heartedly and hurried down the stairs, his footsteps heavy and loud.

They weren't loud enough to drown out the sound of Tsuna retching in the background.

"Yamamoto," Reborn began after Gokudera's soft voice floated up the stairs, Nana's hitching, breathless words following, barely a whisper in the background. "Would you get a damp towel from the bathroom? I will need a pair of steady hands if I am to see how Tsuna currently is."

Yamamoto's pacing stuttered to a halt and he turned to look at Reborn, an unsure expression on his face. At seeing Reborn was serious, his expression hardened and he nodded, quickly striding to the bathroom where the tap sounded from shortly afterwards.

When Yamamoto returned, he opened the door and respectfully held it ajar for Reborn to walk in first, his nose wrinkling at the rancid smell that wafted out, almost warm in its intensity.

The room was surprisingly well lit for how grim it smelled, a preconceived notion that anything sickness related must be kept in the dark.

Tsuna was no more than a miserable, shaking bundle in the corner of his bed, questionably, darkly coloured gunk staining the floor and his bed covers.

"If you're going to be sick, be quick," Reborn advised. "I'll need your help in sitting him up. Don't worry, what this is, isn't communicable."

Yamamoto swallowed the bile in his throat and tried to shallow his breathing. It wasn't the worst thing that had ever graced his olfactory senses but it was pushing its way into a close second.

"I'll be fine," he said, voice wavering and Reborn gave him a cursory look over before nodding and striding towards the bed, easily avoiding the puddles of sickness.

Yamamoto picked his way across the room with much more care, squeezing his fingers tight enough around the damp towel in his hand that water started to dribble down his forearms.

"Just here," Reborn said, clearing a space on the bedside table that Yamamoto set the towel down on. Reborn rolled his sleeves up and added, "If you could sit him up for me…"

Yamamoto nodded jerkily and moved to pull the covers back in order to expose Tsuna. Tsuna moaned pathetically at the sudden brightness and shuddered his way into the foetal position.

Whispering apologies and trying not to cringe at how hot and sticky Tsuna was, Yamamoto took a hold of Tsuna's shoulders and eased him up into a seated position. Tsuna lolled forward and his forehead hit Yamamoto's shoulder, his breathing little more than whimpers and pants.

The smell of sick and something much more potent wafted up from the brunet, but Yamamoto grit his teeth and manoeuvred weak, heavy limbs so he could get Tsuna out of his sweat soaked shirt and so Reborn could gather up the cold wet towel and start wiping the sick teen clean.

Every other touch made Tsuna flinch anew, and Yamamoto had to grit his teeth against the sensation of tears. That was why it was a shock when Tsuna went limp and still in his arms and it took a quiet moment of panicked fumbling to find a fluttering pulse.

"Asleep again," Reborn guessed from the flood of relief that washed over Yamamoto's face, and deep inside he was glad Yamamoto didn't have to suffer the pain of having Tsuna die in his arms, no matter the final outcome.

"Yeah," Yamamoto mumbled, and pulled Tsuna a little further forward so Reborn could tear the blanket off the bed and pad across the room silently to retrieve a fresh one from the closet.

When the bed was set again, Yamamoto lay Tsuna back down, who was starting to shudder and shiver again, soft pant escaping him every so often.

"How much longer do you think?" Yamamoto asked, letting Reborn tuck the small, pale brunet into the bed.

"As I told Gokudera, Bianchi's…unique ability means that every creation differs in its effect. Tsuna will become better when it has run its course. We should leave now."

Yamamoto bit down the complaints he wanted to make, wanting to stay rather than leave but nodded instead and, holding the door open for Reborn, only sighed when it clicked back into place behind them.

* * *

Tsuna could barely decide if he was on fire or freezing to death, one moment blisteringly hot and the next doused in ice. Every movement felt like nails scraping along his skin, and his stomach churned more violently than a stormy sea.

Something angry and burning crawled up his throat, like a giant bug clawing its way out and then he was being sick onto the floor, his jaw creaking open with more effort than he felt he could give.

A morbid thought crossed his mind as he wondered whether or not the sickness would take him, or if he would choke on his own vomit.

Rolling over, he painfully stretched out an arm, and blearily stared at his fingers. His arm gave a spasm and then went rigid as he stared at his hand, the fingers twitching sporadically, like the legs of a dying spider.

Tiny black things were crawling out from his nail beds, tiny legs skittering loudly like a dozen heels on a marble floor and the small rational part left of Tsuna's fever cooked brain said, _hallucination._

The rest of him, the terribly, terribly sick part of him, started to scream and cry and he tried his best to _move, move, move_ as these tiny, awful things started to strip skin from flesh, flesh from bone.

Something in his stomach flip flopped, over and over, twisting back and forth angrily like a coiled snake with no room to go and the taste of blood filled his mouth.

The tiny black things didn't stop.

It took him a few minutes to remember the screaming was coming from him and then his teeth were clacking shut hard enough for him to feel a brief sting on his tongue where he'd bitten down.

How long had he been like this?

Minutes? Hours? Days?

Tsuna desperately wanted to know when it would end, and between one blink and the next the black things were gone and the clock had started to melt off of the bedside locker.

There was a shrill ringing in his head that wouldn't leave and his fingers had started to purple.

Breathing had suddenly become harder, his throat feeling tight and stuffy and for a long moment he wished fervently it would close all the way, save him from the pain that was still making his stomach cramp and his muscles seize.

But then everything went limp and he could breathe again, the air like fire travelling through his nose and down to his lungs, everything so sensitive.

He wanted to cry but wasn't so sure the tears wouldn't either freeze to his cheeks or evaporate off his skin.

Extending his legs took immense effort, but pushing the blanket to the floor with his toes felt immensely satisfying, an emotion that flittered briefly through him and then disappeared, swallowed by the pain.

Of course, as soon as the blanket was gone, he was cold again, shaking so violently that he was sure the bed was rattling beneath him.

His stomach lurched angrily, tightening further and further until he was gasping over the pain and blood was bubbling up his throat.

And then, as sudden as the sensation had happened, it was gone, his vision speckling black in places, the speckles turning into great, yawning black holes of nothing.

His heart beat was loud in his ears, a _thud-whoosh_ , heavy and slow. It beat a grand total of three more times and then stopped completely.

About thirty minutes later, Tsuna, using limbs as shaky as any new-born faun's, sat up, pressed his face into his hands and tried his best not to sob.

* * *

Gokudera's head jerked up so quick that the back of it bounced off of the wall he had been sat against when the bedroom door eased open from the inside.

Tsuna, bundled up in several layers and shivering pathetically, used the doorway to support most of his weight as he prepared to shuffle into the hallway.

"Can I get a drink?" he croaked, his throat scratchy and dry and, impulsively, he rubbed the knuckles of one hand against the side of his other, to make sure everything was still there.

Gokudera burst into motion, rushing down the hallway to where a glass pitcher was sat on a table toward the corner of the corridor. It had been left long enough for condensation to bead on the outside and, as Gokudera poured a glass for Tsuna, some of the water scattered since he couldn't stop himself from shaking.

"How long?" Tsuna asked, and flinched when Reborn's hand fell on his shin, a faint part of him still expecting to feel like his nerve endings had been exposed to the sun.

"It's been twenty two hours."

Tsuna licked dry lips with a thick tongue, looking down at Reborn's impassive face.

"M-Mama?" he asked, voice breaking and causing an ache in his throat.

"She stayed at a friend's house for the evening, a suggestion she was amicable to follow. The first few hours were the most difficult as you can imagine."

Gokudera scurried back down towards them, side stepping Yamamoto who was sleeping, head drooped forward with his chin on his chest.

"You all stayed?"

"I wouldn't have left for anything," Gokudera whispered fiercely, presenting the glass of water with still trembling hands. "The baseball idiot – ah, Yamamoto, sorry – was reluctant to leave too. We stayed. Hibari visited. You weren't…you weren't lucid when you awake, so I doubt you remember."

Tsuna took hold of the glass, his fingers slightly numb to sensation. It took a little more effort than normal to keep a good hold of the slippery surface, but he stared into the depths of it for nearly a solid minute before lifting it to his mouth and drinking in greedy gulps.

When the glass was half empty, the out half sitting heavy in his stomach, the cramps began, too much too soon on a shrivelled, empty stomach.

He accepted Gokudera's help as Reborn guided them to the spare bedroom, and the clattering was loud enough to rouse a sleepy Yamamoto, who immediately sprang into action as soon as he realised what was happening.

"Tsuna," he said warmly, one arm resting across his back to keep Tsuna upright. "Are you okay?"

Tsuna tried to smile, but imagined it looked more like a grimace. He was still sweaty and he doubted there was any colour to his face and Yamamoto's answering smile was awfully pinched.

"I've been better," Tsuna admitted, feeling his stomach roil restlessly, feeling as if he were going to be sick.

"You did very well faced with what you were," Reborn said encouragingly. "But, next time, don't eat questionable food given to you by strangers."

"I didn't know everyone was out to get me," Tsuna smiled in response, and it felt a little more natural then, his legs starting to wobble underneath him.

"For as long as you are the Decimo candidate, everyone you do not know is a potential enemy. Thinking of it this way will give you a better life in the future. I do not doubt it will give you a _longer_ life, too."

Tsuna grimaced at that, clenching his hand in a fist towards his stomach and dropped his eyes to the floor.

"That's not a life I want to live."

"Then you're going to have to learn." Reborn stopped next to the guest bed and looked at Tsuna sternly. "Because I refuse to be witness to any more of these tragedies. I will tell you again and again – you aren't to suffer alone anymore."

Tsuna couldn't do any more than whisper his thanks and gratefully sank into a bed that didn't smell of sickness and rot.

* * *

It _was_ supposed to be an update on the Harem one but this one came out easier, so sorry for those of you waiting for the other stories to be updated.

Hope this chapter met up to standards!


	13. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven – A Moment of Truth

 **WARNINGS! BRIEF MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS IN THIS CHAPTER.**

* * *

"I've got a question, Reborn," Tsuna said quietly, fingers wrapped tightly around his pen, eyes a little distant as he worked on his homework.

Reborn, who had normally taken to whacking him with a stick on the back of his hand if he spoke when he shouldn't need to, paused in the motion he began to make at hearing the faraway quality to Tsuna's voice.

"Would you like to ask it?"

"I would." Tsuna set the pen down and curled his fingers together. Reborn tried not to frown as he watched him tremble.

Tsuna cleared his throat firmly and then asked, "If you were given the option to either save me or leave me to die and recover, which would you choose?"

"What sort of question is that?" Reborn snapped back in return without preamble, tiny hands curling into tight fists.

"Reborn!" Tsuna responded, and Reborn almost flinched at the tone of voice, sharp and firm and nothing he expected, a mature voice from a small, fragile body.

"I would save you, Tsuna," Reborn continued, moving to sit on Tsuna's bed. Tsuna twisted to keep eye contact with him.

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't have to die, isn't that obvious?"

"I won't be really dead, Reborn."

"You _will,"_ Reborn hissed in response. "You _would_ be dead and I could have prevented it. Your heart stops, you cease to breathe. No matter the outcome, you would be dead!"

"Then let me edit the scenario. I've been injured and bleeding out. There's no way to get me immediate help and it could take hours before I'm dead, suffering all the while. Would you still save me then?"

"Of course I would," Reborn replied quietly.

"You would, even though it would have been quicker to simply end it?"

"You're not _expendable,_ Tsuna, no matter your status, no matter your gift, your _curse,_ whatever it may be!" Reborn replied, voice harsher than he anticipated, and Tsuna winced back, arm lifting to curl protectively around his midriff.

"But it would be easier," Tsuna pointed out, quiet and truthful.

"You are _not_ expendable, Tsuna. If there is even the tiniest possibility of saving you and having the better outcome of it, of course I would."

"Because of your loyalty to the Vongola family?"

"Because, no matter how you act, you're _fourteen years old_ and still a child. And you have more deaths under your belt than _anyone_ should ever have to suffer through. Does that answer your question?"

"So, in your opinion, physical suffering is better than the mental suffering?" Tsuna asked. "Because that's what it boils down to, Reborn. I'm either in pain, or I live with the knowledge that I died in another outlandish manner."

Reborn ground his teeth, eyes down as he tried to contend against Tsuna's words.

"You fell down this afternoon, in physical ed.," Reborn said in response, suddenly feeling conviction as his tiny fingers curled around the pacifier.

Tsuna blinked a few times and nodded.

"Roll your trousers up, you injured your leg if I saw right."

"Reborn – " Tsuna yelped as the stick slapped down on the back of his wrist, not enough to leave a mark but enough to sting for a brief moment. After grumbling, Tsuna rolled his trouser leg up and was startled into silence as the yellow pacifier around Reborn's neck began to sparkle and glow.

Reborn brought the glow close to the graze on his knee, the skin angry and scabby from his tumble earlier. When the glow was taken away, Tsuna's skin was unblemished as it had ever been.

"That's as much as I can do for you now, more at a push," Reborn began, the pacifier dulling down again. "But we'll find someone who can do that for you at a larger scale and you will be _fine."_

Tsuna tried not to point out that it sounded like Reborn was trying to convince himself and nobody else, and instead smoothed his fingers over his unmarked knee.

"T-This is like that day when you shot me."

"Not to kill," Reborn intervened almost immediately. "I'll tell you about them when you're ready to learn."

"And others could do it too?" Tsuna rolled his trousers down again.

"Each Flame has a different property. Mine, the Sun, can heal. Yours, the Sky, is vastly different. You'll learn. Back to your homework."

"I was thinking of asking the others the question I asked you," Tsuna said abruptly. "I can't see Gokudera-kun or Yamamoto having the stomach to go ahead with it, but Hibari might be decisive enough."

" _No."_ Reborn's tone of voice brokered no argument and Tsuna pursed his lips before turning back to his homework, even as he wondered to himself if it was possible to talk to the others without Reborn finding out.

"Don't even think about it," Reborn advised, petting Leon as the lizard clambered its way out from under his hat, looking lethargic and bloated. "Because I will find out."

"You are a child. The _others_ are children. It is bad enough that they bear witness to you dying, to ask them to facilitate it themselves is akin to torture. If there is _no other alternative_ I will be the one to deal the decisive blow."

"But if they could avoid watching me suffer – "

"So you would rather they took a knife to your throat and took your life into their own hands? Instead of watching you suffer, when they can ease that pain and be with you, you would have them cut the life from your body when they do so much to prevent you from another needless death?"

Tsuna swallowed and fell quiet, staring at his homework which was suddenly blurry and hard to see.

Reborn's voice softened.

"I did not mean to make you cry. This situation is unfavourable for all involved."

Tsuna's hand shot to his face to scrub at his eyes, his fingers indeed coming back damp with tears. And, all of a sudden he couldn't stop them from falling, his body heaving and his breath catching in his throat as he sobbed and clenched a fist by his throat, another thrown over his face as he curled over his homework and keened.

A distant part of him despaired at smudging his homework with his salty tears, whereas the majority of him just screamed at him from the inside, an innate hatred of his life, a hatred of what he was, of what he did to others, and the irony of it all was that if he ever entertained the thought of ending it all, it _wouldn't work._

"No matter what Tsuna, no matter how much it hurts the others in our life, they have chosen to stand beside you, to support you in all that may happen and will always be there when you need them. This is how much you mean to them. Please, don't ever forget, you will always have someone who won't forget your suffering. It is not worthless, _you_ are not worthless and they – _I_ – will never let you forget that."

Tsuna couldn't help himself as his hands lifted, fingers curling in a grabbing motion as he reached across the table and Reborn was there, putting aside their differences, putting aside the terms 'student' and 'tutor' so he could return Tsuna's desperate embrace as well as he could.

"You're not alone in this. I am here."y

And Tsuna, breathless with tears and body shaking like a leaf in a wind, could only croak out a whispered thanks, that was returned with Reborn's hands tightening their tiny grip on the edges of his shirt.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait all! This is a much needed chat and comfort for Tsuna between him and Reborn, so no death, but a little bit (a lot?) of angst I suppose lol.

Hope you enjoyed it! And I apologise for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd still lol. On a side note, if you'd like to help me work on this story, feel free to drop me a PM and we can discuss stuff! I like to pick out as many blips as possible but I still miss a lot of them.


	14. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve – A Glint of Steel

"Oh." The noise that Tsuna made was soft and barely audible, but his next words croaked louder. "Oh, shit."

A shaking hand lifted to his neck, fingers brushing a slim protrusion of metal that was embedded under his skin. The warm, slickness of blood poured over his fingertips and, like a puppet that had had its strings cut, he was crumbling to the floor.

Ken cackled in an ugly manner as Gokudera made a high-pitched noise of distress and darted to Tsuna's side, fingers hovering over the needle.

"Carotid artery," Chikusa murmured, hands lowering slowly. "Fatal injury."

"Nice shot!" Ken grinned, elbowing his counterpart, but Chikusa simply frowned.

"We weren't meant to kill anyone, Ken," Chikusa reprimanded quietly, stepping away from his exuberant partner.

"But it's a bonus, right?!"

As Chikusa heard Tsuna gurgle over the blood in his mouth, at Gokudera's soft, unheard but soothing words as he clasped the Decimo's hand, Chikusa wasn't so sure.

The stark contrast of the blood against Tsuna's pale skin seemed to stick in his mind and then abruptly faded away. Chikusa couldn't even remember what he had been doing as Ken slung an arm around his shoulder, chattering aimlessly as he guided him the other way.

(Not too much later, when they became unlikely allies against a force much greater and more threatening, Ken would remember the memory of laughing at someone else's undue suffering with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chikusa didn't know how to beg for forgiveness when memories of a death from his hands returned to him, he who had suffered and watched as others died and had vowed to never take a life, but Tsuna had simply smiled on the day that he had remembered and accepted him all the same. It still took days for his trembling hands to be able to touch a weapon again, regardless of the circumstances.)

* * *

"I had heard there had been an escape," Reborn murmured. "I didn't realise they would reach here so soon, or target Tsuna immediately."

Absentmindedly, he twirled the bloodstained needle between his fingers as Tsuna rested in the bed before him, Gokudera perched on the edge and dabbing blood away from Tsuna's collar. Then he passed the needle to Leon, who flickered a tongue at the tip of it and immediately scampered into Reborn's shirt.

"Poisoned, too."

"So at least the Tenth didn't suffer," Gokudera said softly, his lips barely moving. "But I couldn't stop him from being ki-ki – "

"If it makes it easier for you, call it an injury," Reborn advised, tucking the needle into his sleeve and away from sight. Even as he watched, Tsuna shuddered all of a sudden, and then his chest began to rise and fall with soft breaths.

Gokudera settled back with his bloodied cloth and watched reverently as Tsuna made a soft snuffling noise and rolled into a position on his side as if to get comfortable in sleep.

Not even a minute later, Tsuna was opening his eyes, revealing a sliver of orange that briefly startled Reborn before his eyes faded back to their normal colour and Tsuna's eyes opened fully, a look of panic chasing across his face.

"It's okay," Gokudera said immediately. "You're home now. They left after you were injured."

Tsuna's fingers moved to his neck almost, but Gokudera caught his hand in his own.

"Everything is okay now," Gokudera repeated, insistently pressing Tsuna's hand back to the mattress, his other arm lifting to curl around Tsuna's shoulders to help him sit up.

"Do you remember what happened?" Reborn interjected.

"We went to see the people that attacked Ryohei," Tsuna said slowly, voice croaking softly before he cleared his throat. "And then – " and Reborn watched as Gokudera grimaced as Tsuna's hand continued twitching in his, a desperation to touch where the wound had once been.

"Gokudera, are you okay?" Tsuna eventually asked and Gokudera tried his best not to lose his composure.

"As he said, they left after your injury," Reborn interrupted, and then gently bopped Tsuna on the top of the head. "A mafia boss should always be aware of his surroundings. While it is unlikely for you to be left by your subordinates, you should always know how to take care of yourself when others aren't there!"

Before Tsuna could reply or complain, Yamamoto stuck his head through the doorway and cheerfully exclaimed, "Tsuna! You're awake!"

As he eased into the bedroom, Tsuna noticed he had a tray holding a plate of sandwiches and a glass of water, cold enough for condensation to bead on the side of it.

"You missed lunch, so I helped your mum clean up and then made some sandwiches for you. I'd've made sushi, but we're not in the right place for that!"

"Y-Yamamoto-kun?" Tsuna asked.

"He showed up after the others left," Gokudera explained quietly. "And helped me carry you home, as I was hurt."

"Hurt?!" Tsuna twisted to look at Gokudera in horror.

"Only a little! I got hit by two of the needles when trying to stop you from being hit, but I've already been treated and seen to, don't worry Tenth!"

"I'm going to worry, Gokudera-kun! You're special to me, and it's not as if you can – can just get back off and w-walk it off like I can!"

Gokudera swallowed abortively a handful of times, blinking rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears, murmuring, "That's beside the point, Tenth. Just because you can 'walk it off' doesn't mean I like to see you suffer."

Tsuna's mouth twisted into a bitter expression, but it was wiped from his face as Yamamoto sat next to Gokudera on the edge of the bed and planted the tray of food firmly on Tsuna's lap.

"Come on, enough of all that! You should eat and regain your strength, huh? There's still people walking around beating others up and we promised Reborn we'd put a stop to it together."

"Reborn?!" Tsuna twisted to glare and was flicked between the eyes.

"It comes from a higher position than I, we discussed it while you were asleep. We're after an escaped criminal called Mukuro Rokudo, and the Ninth demands his recapture. You are expected to follow these orders, to show your competence and valour as a future leader."

Tsuna stared down at his sandwich and curled a hand loosely around his glass of water. Then, unexpectedly and unrepentantly, he tossed the contents over an unsuspecting Reborn.

* * *

Sorry for the wait on this everybody!

And a big thanks to **eternal blossoms** for betaing this chapter for me and cleaning up the mess I'd made of it!


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